


What I Thought I Needed Most

by AllHallowsEve



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Again with the fucking angst, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Biting, Bottom Dean, Bottom Sam, Chains, Cuddling & Snuggling, D/s tones, Dom Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Episode: s12e03 The Foundry, Episode: s12e04 American Nightmare, Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Episode: s12e08 LOTUS, Episode: s12e09 First Blood, Episode: s12e11 Regarding Dean, Episode: s12e14 The Raid, Episode: s12e15 Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell, Episode: s12e17 The British Invasion, Episode: s12e18 The Memory Remains, Episode: s12e19 The Future, Episode: s12e20 Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes, Episode: s12e21 There's Something About Mary, Episode: s12e22 Who We Are, Eventual Smut, First Time, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Hiding Feelings, Light BDSM, M/M, Mary Winchester's A+ Parenting puts John's A+ parenting to shame, More tags will be added as the story progresses, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Post-Episode: s12e07 Rock Never Dies, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Post-Episode: s12e13 Family Feud, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Smol Sam, Sub Sam, The Colt (Supernatural), Threats of Violence, Top Dean, Top Sam, Topping from the Bottom, Whipping, Wincest - Freeform, all the emotions, at what point are there too many tags, bad memories, bossy bottom, eventual first time, gut punch feels, here a coda there a coda, okay not so slow burn, so much angst i am sorry, story will continue to connect with the season, surprise more angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 64,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8775925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: Love in the time of Mary.  How having their mother back opens the Winchester brothers to what they really need most.  They have always lived their lives for each other, but now maybe they can understand it is about more than brotherly love. Story picks up in the last scenes of Mamma Mia and will continue to touch on scenes throughout the season weaving the story into and out of canon.





	1. Not Knowing What You Need

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure where this story is going, other than it is about the not so brotherly love between Sam and Dean and how they deal with Mary being back. This is my first ever attempt at a fanfiction full story.
> 
> I will add more tags as the need arises for each individual chapter. This is completely unbeta'd but I have to say a big "Thank You!" to [random_firework](http://archiveofourown.org/users/random_firework) for encouraging me to just go for it and post.

“Dean?”  Sam had been searching the bunker for what seemed like hours.  He knew in reality it had only been an hour or so since they had parted ways in the kitchen.  He had taken their mom some tea and then gone to his room to think.  But he couldn’t think his way out of his melancholy so he did what he always did and looked for his brother. 

Dean wasn’t in his room, wasn’t in the library or the map room.  He wasn’t in the dungeon or the showers so he circled back into the kitchen.

Upon seeing it empty he turned to go back out into the hallway calling again, louder this time, “Dean?”

A quiet, “yeah Sammy” came from behind the counter at the back of the kitchen.

Sam whipped around startled.

“Dean? What are you doing back there?”  he asked as he walked, his long legs taking only a few strides to span the entire space of the kitchen.

He drew a breath in harshly when he saw his brother surrounded by empty beer bottles with his precious pictures covering his lap.

Dean’s eyes were wet when he looked up at the mountain that was his brother.  “Whatcha need Sammy?” his voice was heavy with emotion and concern in spite of the slight slur to it.

Sam slid with his back against the island to sit next to Dean.  “Just wanted to check on you is all.” Sam said quietly.

“M’fine.” The slur was heavier this time.

“Yeah, I can see that.” The snark in Sam’s voice was lost on Dean as was clear by his silence after the statement.

Sam reached over and gathered a few of the photos from where they had slid onto the floor beside Dean’s leg.  He held them with reverence and gazed upon the past that now had potential for a future of some sort.

Pain, for what was lost, and fear, of what could be, fought for dominance in his heart.  He wondered if that was what had caused Dean to be here drinking instead of taking advantage of time to spend with his mom, their mom.

Sam shook his head at the foreign concept.

He knew it was a long shot but had to try anyway.  “Talk to me Dean.”  The lilt at the end implied the request, but he also hoped it was taken for the demand he wanted it to be.

Dean turned his jade eyes back to Sam.  Pain and fear were written all over his face in spite of his attempt to play it off. 

“I am having a hard time reconciling things Sam.” 

Sam’s eyes widened at not only the clarity of the statement but of the honesty.

“Me too.” Was all he could manage past the sudden lump in his throat.

Dean glanced at Sam and his eyes became more focused as if just knowing Sam needed him cut through the alcohol and sadness.

“How'd it go when you took her the tea?” Dean sat up straighter and eyed Sam the way he always does when he is trying to get into ‘take care of Sammy’ mode.

“We talked some,” He swallowed hard and tried to calm his nerves.  “It was okay, I mean nice, I mean...” Sam didn’t know what to say.  He wanted Dean to hold him and stroke him and tell him everything would be alright. the way he used to when they were kids.  He wanted to tell Dean that he had hoped for a connection with his mom and had tried to let his guard down with her.  That the shared hug had felt wonderful, but after it, all he felt was guilt over wishing it was just him and Dean again.  That he hasn’t had time to adjust to Dean being alive yet, and his mom being alive would always come second in importance to Dean being alive.  That he is afraid to go to sleep. That he is all twisted up inside from the torture that Toni had put him through.  That all he can think about is his weakness at the pleasure part of the torture.  How ashamed he was of what he had told her.  Even though he didn’t think it was much, the fact that he broke at all under the pleasant hallucination felt like cheating on Dean, even though Dean had no clue how Sam truly felt about him, in a not so brotherly way.

All those thoughts passed through Sam’s mind in a fleeting heartbeat.  Dean saw emotions flare across Sam’s face, and knew he was hurting but wasn’t sure if it was all just about their mom.  Sam was tough, but he hadn’t shared yet the full extent of what the Brits had done to him.  Dean was itching to know, to force Sam to tell him.  But he also didn’t want to make Sam relive any of it.

Sam swallowed hard and focused on putting up the walls to hide his love for his brother.  It seemed even harder now somehow that their mom was back.  It should have made hiding his incestuous desires easier with her here, but somehow it just made him need Dean more.

“She seems lost.  I know she has good reason to be, getting thrown into the madness of the world today after being in heaven all this time, but I don’t know, she doesn’t seem to be dealing with it the way I would have expected.”  Sam swallowed hard.  “I know that is unfair to say.”  He looked at Dean through the hair that had fallen in his face.

“I get it Sam.” Dean whispered.  His words no longer slurred at all.  “I keep expecting her to take over and make everything alright. The way she used to when I was a kid.”  Dean’s voice broke from the heaviness of his sadness.

Sam looked up startled at the emotion pouring out of Dean.  “Don’t get me wrong Sam, she was strong when we were fighting to find you. She handled herself as well as any hunter I have seen, better than most in fact.”  Dean searched for the words to describe what he had been chasing in his own mind for the better part of the last hour.

“I don’t know man, it's like now that we aren’t fighting or searching, and she doesn’t have a mission, it's like somehow we aren’t enough.” A sob broke from Dean before he managed to shut that shit down.  He pulled his knees up closer to his torso spilling the remaining photos onto the floor.  He covered his face with his arm and tried to calm his breathing.

“Dean!” Sam’s heart cinched at the thought of the pain his beloved brother was actually showing.  What he was feeling must have been so much worse for him to let this much be visible.  “You could never be not enough.”  Sam panicked at what had just come out of his mouth.  “She is just in shock Dean, she doesn’t know us.  I gave her Dad’s journal so that she could maybe find her bearings through that like we used to.”  As he said it he snaked his arm across Dean’s bowed shoulders to pull him closer.  “She will come around Dean, I am sure of it.”  He rubbed Dean’s back as he spoke.

Dean wiped snot on his own shirt sleeve before looking up at Sam.  “What if I don’t want her to?”

It hit Sam like a punch.  He didn’t know what to think and didn’t want to panic Dean and make him stop talking but he couldn’t quite catch his breath.  For as long as he could remember Dean worshiped the ground Mary walked on.  Sam had always emulated that reverence even though he didn’t quite feel it. 

He had to try twice before he could get his voice to work above a whisper.  “What do you mean?”

Dean’s lip quivered before he spoke.  “Amara said she was giving me back what I needed most. But nothing has felt right since she came back.  It is like the idea of mom was what I needed, but mom the person isn’t anyone I recognize.  She looks the same as in my memories, but she doesn’t feel the same to me.” 

Sam ducked his head and hid behind his hair trying to get his emotions under control.

Dean thought he had upset his brother.  “I'm sorry Sam, I didn’t mean that I don’t care about her.”

Sam looked up at his brother and shook his head.  “I’m not upset at you Dean.  I have been trying to figure out how to talk to you about all this because I didn’t want to disappoint you with how I was feeling.  I am having a lot of trouble with her too.  I know it makes sense logically because I didn’t have the bond with her as a kid like you did so my feeling distant from her seemed normal to me, I just didn’t want you to know that was how I was feeling.  I'm just surprised that you feel the same way.”

“All the time we were tracking and hunting for you Sam, I knew I should be thrilled to have her with me, but all I kept thinking was she is a distraction from me finding you.  She was just something I had to worry about when I should have just been out there finding you.”  The gulp was audible when Dean realized he had said too much.  The shocked expression crossing Sam’s face made Dean feel like he swallowed ice cubes of fear.  He didn’t share these things with Sam.  These types of feelings lead to darker places that he could never share with his brother.  He had to get himself under control.

Before Sam could say anything they heard footsteps out in the hall.


	2. Deja Vu on So Many Levels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and hurt on Sam's part. Feeling like he doesn't fit into the new family unit and dealing with the unresolved emotions from the night before in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up in Season 12 Episode 3 The Foundry.

Sam had spent the morning searching the bunker for any information about the British Men of Letters, as a distraction more than out of purpose.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the interaction he had been having with Dean in the kitchen the night before. It had felt like something was on the verge of becoming between them, an opening up that was different than their usual, if rare, chick flick moments, with each other in the past.  But then their mom had wandered into the kitchen and they had scrambled out from behind the island as if they had been doing something wrong.

Sam always felt like he was doing something wrong when he let his guard down with Dean to the point of almost showing his true feelings.  But Dean must have felt guilty over what he had said that could have been construed as not “positive” towards Mary.  That could be the only explanation as to why Dean looked so guilty when facing her.

After fixing themselves a family midnight snack and chatting awkwardly some more, they went their separate ways for the night.

Sam tossed and turned for a couple of hours without ever managing more than a few moments of sleep at a time.  He finally emerged from his room and began searching the archives for any trace indication that their Men of Letters had known anything about the British counterparts, just to try to free his mind from illicit thoughts of his brother. 

Jacking off usually gave Sam enough release to ease his desires temporarily to get to sleep, even though the thoughts that he had about Dean while doing said activity always ended in guilt.  But he was used to the guilt.  He had lived with that since he woke up from his first wet dream ever, which featured his larger than life big brother showing him the ropes.  The guilt had grown to enormous proportions over his teen years and played a big role in why he went to Stanford.  Distance did nothing to ease the desires he had, and so he had learned to live with the guilt once back on the road with Dean. 

Usually it was just background noise now.  One of the few constants he had had his entire life. But last night had kicked it up a notch.  He wasn’t sure if it was because of his added guilt about the non fitting puzzle piece that Mary was becoming or if it was about how raw and vulnerable Dean had been and that made Sam feel even worse that he didn’t have innocent normal brother feels for him.

Whatever the case, it caused Sam to be elbows deep in research when Dean wandered into the kitchen for his morning coffee. He of course had his “Everything is peachy keen and I’m doing just fine” face on and his walls were up in full force.  Nothing about his demeanor indicated the vulnerability from last night even happened. 

Their discussion of what Sam’s research had accomplished, or more accurately what it had failed to find, was interrupted by Cas.  His parting volley indicated that they were needed there to help Mary but Dean’s reaction definitely showed that he was in no mood to acknowledge last night’s emotions were even in his memory at all. 

Dean had slipped into his “nothing gets to me” suit and was playing it for all it was worth.  It got even thicker when Mary came in and explained she wanted to go after a potential case.  Dean jumped on the family hunt and threw himself into it the way he used to with Dad.  It had always been his go to way of hiding his emotions.  Having a case was obviously a fix for all things emotional with the entire Winchester family.  Just another thing that made Sam feel like a freak even after all these years.  He didn’t usually deal with things the ‘Winchester Way’ but he thought feeling left out of that was far behind him with the death of their dad. Mary was bringing that horrible feeling of not fitting right back to the here and now for Sam. 

When he slid into the back seat of Baby after pumping their gas Sam heard his mom and Dean bantering about jerky.  Between that and the bacon this morning, they seemed to be bonding over food.  The feeling of being left out continued for him as she cranked up Dean’s music.  It had been years since Sam felt this out of place.

The feeling of not fitting and things just not being right kept getting worse for Sam.  When they went to the coroner’s office to see about the people killed on the case Mary took over in spite of the fact that the brothers had been hunting now longer than she had even been alive.  Dean fell right in behind her, just as he always had with Dad.  All the pent up frustration that Sam had felt as a teenager started rushing back.  He kept looking to Dean to see any hint of what he had been sharing the night before about feeling disconnected with their Mom, but he was closed off behind his hunter’s mask.

Sam panicked for a moment when they checked into the hotel in town.  Mary was not happy about the credit card schemes they had used their entire lives to pay their way.  It was just one of many things she was finding out about how the boys lived their lives that she disapproved of.  So in order to save money and not use more of the illicit income than necessary she insisted they only get one room.  When that happened, flashbacks of how often sleeping with Dean had lead to sleepless nights for Sam came roaring in.  Always having to be on guard of his body wanting his brother, and paranoia about Dean finding out was a constant for him back then.  Thankfully Dean had asked the desk clerk about a rollaway bed and they had had one available so that was one less thing Sam had to worry about. 

The disconnect with Mary just seemed to be getting worse.  Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that she was holding back or hiding something from them.  He tried to talk to Dean about it over Lucas Kellinger’s burning grave but Dean went into deflection mode.  Dean got so frustrated with Sam that he said “Can’t we just have one good thing?” As if Dean’s surviving being a bomb for God wasn’t a miracle, and Sam being rescued from torture wasn’t enough for Dean.  It hurt Sam more than he cared to let Dean see.  Right now, he really didn’t know how to deal with all his own emotions, let alone how to help Dean with all this Mom stuff when Dean obviously didn’t want to let him in at all.  Sam couldn’t shake the fear that Dean regretted opening up to him last night.

Sam fought off tears the entire way as they rode back to the hotel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter was mostly about Sam and his emotions. This is turning into much more of a slow burn than I had originally intended. I will still be weaving the story in and out of this season as much as possible.


	3. Blindsided in More Ways than One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after their first case with Mary. The boys have to deal with the fallout. Things take an unexpected turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up in the end of Season 12 Episode 3. The scene gutted me so I had to write about it. It actually was the inspiration for this entire story. This chapter turned out to be twice as long as the others so far, so it is basically 2 chapters. Hope you enjoy.

After saving Mary and making their way back to the bunker banged up but not really worse for wear comparatively, Sam walked in on Mary and Dean at the point where she dropped an emotional nuclear bomb.

Sam felt it would have been easier to watch if the ghost possessing Mary had succeeded in killing Dean by freezing his heart.  It would have been less painful than seeing Dean drawing down into himself and stepping away from Mary as she tried to comfort him.

For Sam, being thrown against the wall back at the haunted house had broken less physically than Mary speaking of leaving did emotionally.  As disconnected and out of sorts as he has felt since she had come back, hearing her say she was in mourning for her babies and for John and therefore choosing to leave her flesh and blood sons behind, absolutely crushed Sam.  Made him feel he couldn’t catch his breath. 

But seeing Dean’s heart break; seeing him shut his emotions down and withdraw inside himself, made Sam hate Mary.  She was his mom, and would always be his mom, but he had lived a big portion of his younger life hating his Dad for how he fucked them up, especially Dean.  At this moment, Dean was trying desperately to close off and lock the pain away, but in actuality it was radiating off him like a river pouring out of a broken dam.  It made Sam hate Mary more than he had ever hated John.

The motion of Dean stepping away from her, of his eyes going blank and his jaw clamping down hard, Sam had seen that look a thousand times when they were young and John was drunk or pushing too hard, or yelling because something had gone wrong.  Dean always bore the brunt of his anger, whether he had made a mistake or the world had, Dean was John’s whipping boy. Sam had witnessed Dean bear so much and never let it be seen by those that harmed him.  But this, it was as if Mary had reached inside Dean and ripped at his soul like it was a scrap of ancient paper she was tearing to shreds.

What hurt Sam the most, was that the last time he had seen Dean react this badly, was when Sam had told him he was leaving for Stanford.  As Mary walked out of the bunker and the heavy door slammed shut behind her it made Sam jump.  It felt so final.  All that pain and memories from the past surged forward within him and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Tears began to stream down his face.  His shoulders hunched and he didn’t know what to do.  He needed Dean, needed his big brother to make it better.  He reached out to Dean on pure instinct before he even realized what he was doing. “Dean…” Sam whispered.

He saw Dean’s hard gaze as if he was ready to war against Sam and tell him he wasn’t going to talk about this.  But the minute the tears that were streaming down Sam’s cheek registered in Dean’s mind, his entire demeanor changed.

“Come on Sam, it’ll be okay.  She’ll be back.” The light tone Dean tried to hide behind and the “I’ll make it better” big brother act that he slipped into so easily just broke Sam apart.

A sob wracked out of his chest and brought him to his knees.  Everything that had happened, thinking Dean was dead, being tortured, seeing their Mom alive, the non- stop strain it had put on the brothers, the unresolved feelings from that night in the kitchen, it all just crashed into Sam and before he realized what was happening he was in a heap on the floor and weeping openly.

Then Dean was there.  His strong arms were wrapped around Sam manhandling him until he was half on his lap, head tucked into Dean’s neck getting his shirt all wet from the tears he couldn’t manage to stop.

“Shh Sammy, it’ll be okay.”  It was as if Dean had reached into his chest and taken Sam’s heart into his hand with his old nickname.  He petted Sam’s hair and wiped at his tears.  It has been so long since Dean allowed them to touch like this.

He always kept Sam at arm’s length, literally.  The only time he hugged him or touched him was when one of them had been hurt, or missing, or back from the dead.  He hadn’t comforted Sam in this way in years over something emotional.

Dean knew he was taking a risk.  This was too close.  His love for Sam was overwhelming common sense right now.  He had to hide, to try to reign in his feelings for his little brother.  Sam was hurting and in pain and yet all Dean could think about was how good his body felt against him.  He hated himself for wanting his brother while his brother was vulnerable like this.  Dean had reconciled himself with the fact that he was a monster years ago.  Becoming a Knight of Hell was nothing compared to the darkness in his soul from all the heinous things he wanted to do to his little brother on a regular basis.  But wanting that when Sam was this broken over their mom, it was a new low, even for him.

Sam’s tears were starting to slow and Dean ran his thumb across his cheek to wipe at them.  He continued stroking past Sam’s ear and brushed his fingers through Sam’s baby soft hair.  He was so caught up in his own emotions and distracted by the way Sam felt gathered around him that he didn’t realize consciously what he was doing at first.  When he stroked his hand down the side of Sam’s neck he felt Sam’s throat work around a giant swallow and his breath catch.  That shook Dean into reality and he froze.

Sam was holding his breath too.  He wasn’t sure what was happening but he knew he was completely out of his depth.  Dean was comforting him, sure.  He had done that his entire life in one form or the other.  But this felt different.  This felt heated and loaded.  Like the air sometimes felt before a lightning storm.  Like any second it would be set off and uncontrollable.

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat again and tried to even out his breathing.  He didn’t want to spook Dean by letting him know how much this was affecting him. Yes he was upset, but now all he could think about was how Dean was touching him.  Sam couldn’t seem to stop his mind from going into desire for his brother and that made him feel awful.  Dean was obviously just upset and distraught over their mom leaving.  Sam must be reading too much into this.  Dean couldn’t feel the same way Sam did.  Dean was too straight and too righteous for all the darkness that resided in Sam for him to want him that way.

Dean had no idea what to do, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.  It was as if they were caught outside of time and space together in a void.  One that was empty and full at the same time.  He wondered if this was how it would be when they died and were cast into the actual Void that Billie had threatened them with.  If so, he didn’t think he would mind, as long as he was there with Sam.

In his reverie, his hand began to travel again, brushing over Sam’s collarbone and down his shoulder, rubbing up and down his arm.  “I am just comforting him” Dean tried to convince himself.

Sam snuggled closer under Dean’s chin.  It was Dean’s turn to suck in air as Sam’s hot breath pushed against his neck making Dean instantly rock hard.  It took Dean a split second to realize it and then another second to realize Sam was still partially on his lap and therefore could probably feel what was happening.

Sam’s hand had been balled up in Dean’s shirt at his side while he was sobbing, as was his way when he was little and Dean was comforting him.  But now Sam flattened his hand against Dean’s side and began tracing a pattern of his own with his fingers.  He pulled his hand closer to Dean’s stomach and snaked it under his flannel shirt to be between the layers.  He ran his palm up Dean’s chest and as it brushed slowly across Dean’s nipple somewhat accidentally, somewhat of its own accord, they both sucked in a breath.

Dean swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. “Sammy,” was all that he managed. 

Sam pulled his head back and looked up into his brother’s eyes.  They were both scared to death, their hearts pounding in time to the beat of the other.

Each was in pain and feeling vulnerable over their mom.  Each was afraid that he was the only one feeling desire for the other, but it was becoming clearer by the second that they had both been wrong on that count.

Sam’s eyes were still glossy with unshed tears and Dean thought not for the first time, not for the thousandth time, that Sam was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. Those eyes that were so expressive, that were ever changing shades of green and gold and brown, spectacularly hazel with a depth that Dean had been lost in since the moment Sam was put in his arms all those years ago. They were now looking at him with trust, a trust no one but Dean had ever been privy to.  Trust that no matter what happened he knew that Dean would take care of him.

An hour ago, hell ten minutes ago, Dean would have been ashamed of Sam looking at him that way, with that much trust, because of the desire he had for his brother that no brother should ever have.  But there was something darker in those eyes now besides trust.  If Dean wasn’t mistaken, there was desire in those eyes matching what he himself was sure Sam was seeing echoed back from Dean’s own jade at him.

Dean must not have been mistaken because Sam’s hand kept travelling. Up to Dean’s throat and around the back of his head.  At the same time Sam shifted position to bring himself up on his own knees, straddling Dean’s lap bringing the boys face to face with each other.  His hand held tight at the back of Dean’s skull as if Sam was afraid Dean would pull away.  At that moment not only could wild horses not pull him away, but demons busting in and invading the bunker couldn’t have taken Dean out of Sam’s space, the pull between the two was so magnetic.

“Sammy are you sure?” Dean had to know.  Had to try a last ditch effort to protect Sam from the demon that was pure Dean and had nothing to do with when he had the Mark. It had been inside Dean from the time he had hit puberty and couldn’t think of anyone he would rather be close to than his lithe squirming little brother.  He had never once thought that Sam had wanted him too.  That thought had never occurred to Dean.  Dean didn’t deserve that kind of break.  And yet…

“Dean, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.” Sam whispered a second before pulling them close enough so that his hungry mouth was on Dean and his tongue was pushing insistently around Dean’s own.  Dean’s brain shorted out for a second and everything went to white noise.  Sam was pulling at his shoulders now to close the final distance between their bodies.  Dean could feel Sam’s dick hard and pulsing against Dean’s lower abdomen even through his jeans. Sam had positioned himself across Dean’s lap in such a way as to be rocking his ass against Dean’s aching cock.

A growl came low in Dean’s throat and his hands clenched tight against Sam’s back scrambling to erase any air between their bodies.  They were biting and sucking at each other as if they couldn’t kiss deep enough.  Their tongues were fighting for dominance and space in the other’s mouth in a hurried starving way that neither seemed eager to stop.  Sam was rocking against him in a desperate pattern. Rubbing his own cock up against Dean and then circling his hips back and down against his crotch canting his ass the length of Dean’s penis and then starting the whole process again. 

Dean ran his hands down Sam’s back, cupping both cheeks of Sam’s ass when he got there. He squeezed hard gaining a groan from Sam as reward.  In one swift movement, Dean shoved Sam backwards using the momentum to pull his own legs up under himself.  In a flash Sam was on his back and Dean was on top.  He attacked Sam’s mouth again but then moved down his jaw and bit harshly into his throat. 

A guttural “De” was all Sam managed before Dean ground his shaft against Sam’s.  They panted and ate at each other’s mouths not wanting to let any space happen between them.  Dean kept an intense pace as he rocked his hips up and back driving his hardness against Sam’s over and over.

The angle was so good this way but it wasn’t enough.  Sam must have read his mind because soon long strong fingers were working at Dean’s belt and zipper.  Dean moved away from Sam’s mouth and went back to the assault on Sam’s neck and jaw.  Sam managed to get them both out of their confinements enough that they were skin on skin and both men moaned at the feel of it.

“Sammy I’m not going to last,” Dean swallowed hard around the admission.  “It’s too good I can’t…” He pulled up on his elbows to really look at his brother for the first time since starting this.

Sam smiled in that rare happy way that was only reserved for Dean. “Let go Dean, just let go.” He wrapped his hand around both of them.  It wasn’t enough so he used both his hands to wrap them up together.  Dean almost came that very moment but he closed his eyes for a second then looked down at the miracle of Sam’s eyes looking up at him.

He began moving against Sam again and Sam began arching up too with a matching rhythm.  They were slick with pre-cum sliding easily against each other and the pressure Sam was using was tight and perfect, he was squeezing and letting loose over and over again while rubbing up and down their shafts.  Dean had multitudes of hand jobs in his life but never had he felt a gut punch of an orgasm as he did from this when it washed over him.  Even though he had known he was close, the force of it caught him off guard. His arms shook with the strain of holding himself up not giving in to the need to collapse completely on Sam from the intensity.

As soon as Sam felt Dean go, he couldn’t hold back. His own orgasm washed over him and everything went fuzzy for a second.  When the world came back to them, Dean found that he had rolled onto his back bringing Sam with him.  Sam was flopped halfway on his chest and thigh with his head once again tucked where it belonged under Dean’s chin.

“We’ve made a mess of ourselves” Sam whispered suddenly shy.

“In the grand scheme of things Sam, that is the least of our problems right now.” Dean’s statement ground Sam’s euphoria to a shattering halt.

He pulled back to get a clear view of his brother, his body beginning to shake.

“I am starving and we are all out of pie.” Dean grinned and pulled Sam hard against him so that Sam could feel the laughter in his chest even though he wasn’t making any noise.

Relief whooshed out of Sam and he couldn’t believe it.  He couldn’t believe they were lying in the middle of the bunker after having had sex with each other and Dean wasn’t freaking out.  Instead he was making silly jokes.  Sam’s head swam with endorphins and nerves and his thoughts didn’t know where to go.  But then Dean’s hand found its way into Sam’s hair and yanked, not hard, but enough to get his attention and make his dick try and stand to again.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean’s serious voice grabbed and squeezed at Sam’s heart.  Sam looked up into Dean’s eyes and saw love there.  The love Dean had always shown Sam when he was taking care of him.  The secret soft Dean that no one else got to see came flooding out as Sam watch Dean drop his defenses even more than they had been in the kitchen. 

“I got no clue what we’re doing here or how we are going to handle this between us, but I’m in.  You hear me Sam?  I am in.  I want this.  I now realize, I had my ‘one good thing’ already and didn’t see it.  I’m not giving this up.  I don’t know what it means, but if you want this man, I want it.  I want it more than I think I have ever wanted anything and I am here and in and I am not going anywhere.  Whaddya say Sammy?”

Sam blinked and blinked at him again.  Dean began to get scared.  Did he misread everything?  Was Sam just trying to make him feel better? Before Dean’s full blown panic could set in Sam burst into tears.

“Yeah Dean. Yeah.” He managed between sobs.  “I’m so in I can’t even tell you.”

Dean somehow in his magic way, pulled himself up into a seated position with his back against one of the library chairs and manhandled Sam like he was 14 again.  Back up into his lap, both of their dicks still hanging out of their jeans forgotten in the emotion. He cradled Sam and rocked him as he cried.

“These are tears of joy right Sam?” Dean questioned only half in jest.

Sam threw his arms around Dean and snuggled into his neck for the 3rd time in less than an hour.  “Yeah Dean.  This is good.  This is so good I don’t even know how to tell you how unbelievably good this is.”

“I do have something to tell you though.”  Sam pulled back and looked Dean in the eyes.

Dean swallowed but waited for whatever it was Sam had to say.

“I hid a second pie in the back of the fridge.” He laughed before snuggling back into what he now considered his place in Dean’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect to have smut happen so soon in the story. But the boys had something different in mind so I went with it. Didn't mean for Sam to be so smol and snuggly but it went there too. It feels like this would be a perfect ending to this story. But the boys don't seem to be letting me alone and this season is killing me. Now we are in hiatus hell so I think I will be writing a lot more of this. I probably should turn this into a series and just ended this part right here but I am not going to. I already have quite a bit of chapter 4 written so hopefully that will be up soon.


	4. Memory of the Monsters We Once Were

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> American Nightmare in the shadow of the boy's first time. What is said and what is left unsaid in the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took some very unexpected twists for me. This was supposed to be a wonderful follow up to their first time but morphed into something dark and painful. I am so very sorry. Angst, so much angst ahead be warned.

Things are different now.  Touches are with intent.  The boys haven’t really talked about things much and they haven’t managed to do more than kiss a few times, after that first time together, but kissing was so much more than they ever expected to be able to do with each other.

They had rushed out on the road that very night after receiving a call from Jodie Mills about a suspicious religious death.  They were worried it might have something to do with Lucifer and didn’t want to waste any time on getting there.  

Sam frowned silently as Dean was harsh with the priest while discussing Olivia Sanchez’s death.  Dean could be brusque even when in a good mood, but Sam could tell something was eating at him.  Even though Dean had assured Sam he wanted what had happened, nerves about him having second thoughts made Sam watch Dean’s moves with paranoia.

Then when Dean stopped and watched the kid and his mom lighting candles in the church, it clicked in Sam’s mind.  This was about their mom being gone.  She hadn’t communicated at all since leaving and it was wearing on Dean.

Things went from bad to worse as the case moved along and another body dropped.  Dean was short with everyone including Sam.  Sam had to hold his own emotions in check when Dean cut him off from talking about their mom by saying “Well maybe we should focus more on the case than on the Dr. Phil crap.”

Sam was trying to be patient. Dean was devastated over their mom.  He knew that Dean was bad at emotional sharing under the best of circumstances. Because of things taking an intimate turn immediately after her leaving they hadn’t talked about what that did to either of them.  Obviously Dean was in shut down mode and wouldn’t be budged, so Sam was trying to hold back and not let his own pain and insecurities affect the job.

Sam was beginning to be frustrated though because he felt that Dean was jumping to conclusions and not wanting to follow due diligence with the case. At least he had agreed to put his assumption about Beth being a bad witch on hold while they checked out the death of Ricky Copeland.

‘I don’t know why he’s second guessing me on everything.’ Dean grumbled to himself while changing into his counselor sweater.  After what they had shared together he thought they would have been on the same page about more things now.

Dean checked his phone for the umpteenth time to see if there was any word from his mom.  There was nothing.  Pain clawed at his heart as he put the phone away.  He had to stop being such a douche about this.  Sam was starting to want to ‘talk’ and he wasn’t up for that at all.  Sure he was cranky.  They hadn’t had sex since that first night and he wanted his brother so badly he could barely look at him for two seconds at a time.  Somehow them being together made the desire even harder to handle than it had been all these years. Being allowed to touch him once made it impossible not to want to again.

But Dean had to get his game face on.  Lives were on the line and the case had to come before his libido. It was so hard though, especially with Sammy looking so good today. The soft maroon sweater he had changed into in order to go see the Peterson’s fit him like a glove and made Dean have to bite the inside of his cheek in order to keep his mouth shut about it.

As they walked down the driveway, Dean was trying to keep things light.  Joking about how fast the Peterson’s buggy would go in order to distract himself from pushing Sam off the road into the trees to have his way with his baby brother.

Sam wouldn’t leave the mom situation alone though.  He had to keep bringing it up.

Dean’s hurt came out brutally clear when he said “She took some cash, a cell phone she doesn’t answer and she bailed on us.”

Sam tried to rationalize her actions in hopes that somehow it would ease Dean’s pain about it.  He tried to remind Dean that they had both needed time away from each other, but it didn’t help.  In fact talking about her coming back made them both wonder silently to themselves about how their new intimacy would work if she did come back. How could they be together with her around? They fell into an uncomfortable silence for the rest of the walk to the house.

As soon as Dean left Sam behind at the farm he regretted it.  He missed him and hated himself for being mean to Sam.  But maybe if he could just take care of the witch and get this case over with they could go back to the bunker and he could make it up to Sam.  He would take his time and make Sam feel so good.  The thought of it made him horny and miss his little brother even more.  He put his foot down and pushed Baby to get him to back to town as quickly as possible.

After the witch situation was a bust he had to swallow his pride and fess up to Sam that he had been right.  None of that mattered however when he lost the connection with Sam on the phone.  Cold fear flooded his system as ran to the car.  He pushed his Baby even harder to get back to the farm. He couldn’t let what had happened to the other 2 victims happen to Sam, he just couldn’t bear it.  They had just become what they were supposed to be to each other all along.  He couldn’t lose him, not now, not ever.

As Sam listened to Magda speaking about how evil she was and how bad she was, thoughts of his own shame and guilt over his former psychic powers and what he did to strengthen them swam inside him and burned at his self worth.  He tried to swallow it down in order to help her, to show her that she wasn’t evil.  Maybe if he could convince her, he could reinforce it within himself.  He still felt like a freak sometimes.  Still felt like he wasn’t worthy of Dean. But when Dean showed him he wanted Sam as much as Sam wanted him, it made the last part of what caused Sam to feel like a freak fade mostly into the background.  Sam tried to use that love that Dean showed him, tried to pull on what bound them together to get the strength to convince Magda she was good and could learn to control her abilities.  Sam knew that if he just held out long enough Dean would be there to save him.

As the police took Mrs. Peterson away, the situation with Magda and her mom made Sam fear what was coming with his own mom.  It triggered a memory of all the hard truths Toni had said about him while she had him tied up and tortured.  Her words began swimming around in his mind to reinforce his already freshly reopened fears about himself and how tainted he was.

What would his mom think of him if she knew what he had done in order to increase his psychic ability?  What would she think about him drinking demon blood?  Or the fact that he was Lucifer’s true vessel.  Would she think he was a monster the way Magda’s mom believed about her?  He tried to hope she would love him anyway and never think he was a monster, but he hadn’t thought she would ever walk away from them either and she did.  He had tried to justify her leaving to Dean but it was just to make Dean feel better. 

Dean turned to Sam and said “You know you were right.  This whole Mom thing, it's.. I mean we get her back then she leaves. I hate it, but I get it, I do. I guess I’m just still working through some of that crap. But I’ll try to be less of a dick about it.”

There was a quiet sadness in Sam’s voice and a resigned closed off expression to him as he simply stated, “Deal.”   Sam kept his feelings to himself, hoping to let Dean have any peace about this that he could get.

Dean had expected Sam to be happy with his confession.  Sam always wanted him to share his feelings so he had expected a completely different reaction than he got.  He watched Sam for a minute taking everything in.

“Okay, stop it right now Sam!”  Dean growled at him as they walked back to Baby.

Sam’s forehead wrinkled in confusion as he looked at his brother for an explanation.

“I can hear the wheels turning in that big brain of yours.  You are thinking about the similarities between you and Magda and remembering the bad times.  I want you to stop that shit right now do you hear me?”

Sam was always shocked when Dean made leaps like that in knowing what was going on with him.  He shouldn’t be.  Dean was infinitely perceptive when it came to most things having to do with Sam.  But it always caught him off guard anyway.

He had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could manage “I can’t help thinking about it, Dean.”  Pain made his voice soft and low.

“How am I going to explain to her all the bad shit I did?  How will she ever look at me like her son again once she knows what I have done?”

The tone in his voice and the helpless lost expression on his face as he looked to Dean for answers crushed Dean’s heart like a vice.  It reminded him of when Sam was little and was afraid their Dad would find out he had done something wrong.

Dean reached out and put his hand on Sam’s arm to stop him in his tracks.

“You listen to me Samuel, You don’t have to justify shit to anyone, ever!  You are the best and brightest thing in this world.  You are so good it hurts me to be around you sometimes..”

Sam gave a harsh bark of a half laugh.

Dean glared at him with a stare that would have backed down a werewolf. “Let’s see, who was it that took on Lucifer and stopped the Apocalypse and then had his soul ripped out as a thank you?  Who was it that was willing to die during the trials just to try to close the gates of hell?  It wasn’t that long ago that you made me promise we weren’t going to indiscriminately kill demons in order to save their vessels.  You were willing to go back to hell to try to save humanity yet again just to fight the darkness.”

“Yeah and look how that ended up! Now Lucifer is free out in the world.” Sam’s bitterness was sharp and acrid.

His objections fell on deaf ears.  It did nothing to deter Dean from his mission.

“That’s not on you Sam! You can’t own everything bad that has happened.”

Dean was beginning to get frustrated by how this self loathing side was flooding back into Sam.  He thought Sam had forgiven himself a while ago and had begun to believe again that he was good. 

“You always put yourself in the line of fire for other people and make sure we do things the right way, not the easy way.”

“You just volunteered to take on the Mark to stop Amara, knowing what it had done to me.” 

“You have nothing to be ashamed of Sammy.  You have done so much more good in this world than you have bad.  You have to believe that! Don’t go cycling down that spiral of believing you are not good.  I won’t have it.  You hear me?” Dean’s frustration was melding into anger.  How could Sam possibly believe this horse shit about himself?

They began walking again. By the way Sam was hunched in on himself as they neared the car, Dean could tell that he hadn’t made a dent in the heavy feelings of responsibility Sam always carried, nor in the poor self worth this case had dredged up from the past.

They slid into their respective places in Baby but Dean didn’t start her up.

The wall that had been holding back his feelings since their mom had walked out on them finally crumbled under the pressure.  He turned and faced Sam, tears in his eyes, “What about me huh?  You wanna put all our mistakes on a scale and see who is unworthy of Mom’s love?”

Sam was taken aback by the sudden left turn in the conversation and the distress in Dean’s voice. He started to reach out to his brother but was shot down.

“No Sam, if we are going to weigh our sins out, what about me?  I was a fucking demon Sam!  I wasn’t possessed, my soul itself was a demon.  A Knight of Hell. Wanna wade in to ancient history?  I was the one that opened the first seal of the Apocalypse by torturing souls in hell even before I was a demon.  And worse still, I got off on torturing all those people.  How is that for bad Sam?”

He was on a roll now. It sounded like he was talking around shards of glass in his throat his voice was so rough.  “How is mom going to accept me when Dad sacrificed himself to save me?  She left because she missed him so much and what will she do when she finds out he is gone because of me, huh Sam?”

Tears rolled down Sam’s face.  “Dean I never meant…”

“I know Sammy, I know.”  Dean’s voice was quiet with exhaustion.  Sam’s tears always had the ability to pull the plug on Dean’s anger.  It was Dean’s turn for his shoulders to sag with the weight of fear over their Mom seeing them as they truly are. 

“I have no idea what is going to happen with Mom, Sam.  And frankly at this moment I don’t care.  She left us without even knowing any of this.  You are here and safe and back by my side and I just want to get some food and get on the road so we can get back home.”

He reached over and squeezed Sam’s shoulder.  “Can we just do that please?”

Sam wiped the tears with the backs of his hands and gave a sad smile.  “Sure De, of course.  Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This grew into such a long beast and kept whipping around unexpectedly. Chapter 5 is actually all the good stuff that was supposed to be in chapter 4, at least that is where it is right now. It isn't finished yet so who knows where it will go. But hark there be porn ahead. So hopefully that will be incentive enough for you to stick with me.


	5. A Better Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when they think they are headed in the right direction a different part of the past comes back to blindside the boys yet again. More angst but with a happier ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus H. Christ, Chuck and Gabriel, can't these boys get their shit together. I thought them admitting their feelings and being intimate would bring nothing but sunshine and unicorns. I obviously forgot I was writing about the Winchesters. 
> 
> This is still completely unbeta'd and I am writing at a breakneck speed so I am very sorry for any grammatical errors. The boys are taking me on a wild ride into unexpected territory. Just when i think I know where this story is going, it veers into oncoming traffic and I have to swerve into a lane I didn't see coming.

A loud happy ‘mmm’ reverberated out of Dean as he bit into the massive cheeseburger.  The ‘mmms’ didn’t stop until he finished the last bite of the apple pie and leaned back in the booth sated and full, patting his belly.

It calmed Sam and made him feel happier than it probably should have to watch as Dean enjoyed his food with relish.  They made small talk about some cases that had been on the back burner for a while.  Then talked some about what the British Men of Letters might be up to bigger picture wise.

Sam started to feel better just from the normalcy of sitting across from Dean in the booth, which was like so many they had shared together over the years.  That was until the pretty waitress, who had been not so subtly eyeballing Dean since they walked in, left her number on the back of their meal ticket she handed Dean with a lascivious smile.  Sam had caught a glimpse of it but Dean said nothing about it and paid without acknowledging it had happened.

Insecurity, that had nothing to do with his earlier fears, flooded through Sam’s stomach souring the meal he had eaten. 

They listened to music and sang along for a while in Baby, but Sam couldn’t keep his mind in line.  He didn’t realize that he had gone quiet and withdrawn until it was too late.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked about twenty miles out from them getting back to the bunker.

Sam had no idea how long he had been lost in his own mind.  “Yeah I’m fine, why?” He turned his gaze towards his brother as he spoke.

“Oh I don’t know Sam, could it be that you’re so far inside your own head again that you haven’t said two words to me in over an hour.”

Sam’s mouth gaped open.  He had no idea he had been silent that long.

“I thought we agreed to let all that shit go. Back at the diner, I thought you were feeling better.”

“I am, Dean. I promise.  I’m not feeling bad about myself anymore okay.  You made me feel better, really.”  He tried for a light note but by the skeptical look on Dean’s face he knew he would have to try harder not to let Dean know he was feeling insecure for an entirely different reason.

“Come on Sam, do you really think I’m that stupid?”

“Really Dean, I think I just zoned out cause I am so tired.  All this emotional stuff is exhausting.  There’s a good reason we don’t do chick flick moments, right?” He plastered on a smile and laughed as he turned the radio up.

Dean immediately reached over and turned the radio off.

“Maybe being kidnapped yet again and threatened by a crazy version of the Brady Bunch is wearing you thin? Must be if you think I am buying the bullshit you are trying to sell me.”

It came out harsher than Dean had meant.  The fear of losing his beloved once again, after just having him back from the stupid British bitch torturing him, had flayed Dean’s nerves raw.  Not to mention how he was still reeling in vulnerability from their earlier discussion about their mom.

Dean swore at himself when he saw Sam flinch in his seat.

 “Jeez Sam I’m sorry.  I just promised I would be less of a dick to you and here I am griping at you for no reason.”

The care and sadness in Dean’s voice soothed Sam immediately.  Dean moved his right hand to comb through Sam’s hair in an additional apology.  It was the first time he had touched him all day and Sam sighed into the touch, leaning the top half of his body towards Dean like a fern unfurling towards the sun.

The connection calmed both of them, but as Dean’s hand slid down to grip the back of Sam’s neck in a squeeze it turned heated.  Sam looked longingly towards his brother and saw need staring back at him.

“You really want to know what I have been thinking about?”  He let Dean see the full weight of his desire and added a flirty lilt to his voice.  Maybe a partial truth taking advantage of what was between them would be enough to play Dean away from digging at what was eating at him.

Dean took the bait.

“Course I do.” Dean quirked his lips into a knowing smile and tilted his head so he could gaze darkly at his brother.  It burned at Sam’s groin to see that look aimed at him.  How many times had Sam watched as Dean turned his irresistible charms on some unsuspecting waitress like back at the diner only to end up fucking her at their motel, while Sam cried himself to sleep over it. 

Sam had never dared hope that look would be turned towards him.  It took his breath away. 

“I was thinking about Beth asking for your number, back at the farm.”  Sam tried harder to play it light.

“Jealous?” Dean teased.  “You said yourself I was going to shoot her.”

Sam instantly turned it around on Dean. “You said yourself that made it kinda hot.”

It was everything he could do to keep it from being an accusation.  Sam knew he was failing the lighthearted part now completely.  This was entirely the wrong tact to take.  It was backfiring and just bringing out his insecurity even more.  His shoulders slumped and he inadvertently moved away from Dean in the process.

He couldn’t help it.  All his life he had watched in misery as Dean gave other people what Sam so desperately wanted from him.  They had shared an intimacy together now, crossing that line, but what if it wasn’t enough for Dean.  He had promised Sam that he was in completely.  But they hadn’t talked about what that meant.  Could Sam actually ever be enough for the Lothario that was his brother?

Dean had been smirking and about to make a dirty joke until he felt Sam pull away. 

One good look at his brother and he realized Sam was serious, jealous, hurting and trying to hide it. This wasn’t about what happened at the farm.  This wasn’t about their mom or them being monsters.

Something else entirely was eating at Sam.  Dean searched his mind for what it could be. He had been fine back at the diner. The mention of Beth and her phone number caused a flash memory about the waitress’s number on the ticket. That in turn sparked a realization for him about what might be going on.  A new view of what his years of promiscuity could have meant to his brother clicked in an intense moment of clarity.

Dean gave the wheel a jerk and Baby swerved off the main road coughing up dust in her wake as she barreled down a dirt side road and pulled abruptly behind a large bushy tree completely obscuring the view from the road.

“What the hell Dean?” Sam had been thrown against the door and ricocheted back across the seat into his brother’s shoulder so hard he was sure he would have a bruise on his arm.

Dean was out of the car and around to Sam’s side jerking his door open and grabbing him by the arm.  He hauled his brother out of the car and pushed him up against the passenger side back door, earning an unexpected ‘oof’ as the wind was knocked out of Sam.  Dean hadn’t meant to be so rough but at the moment he couldn’t care less.

He pushed up into Sam’s space pinning the length of Sam’s body against Baby with the weight of his own.

“I don’t want anyone else okay?” Dean was so close to Sam now they were both having trouble breathing.  He backed his torso off slightly to make it easier to look into Sam’s eyes as he spoke, but keeping him pressed hard against the car and under his control.

“I know I have slept with lots of people.”

A bitter “ya think?” was all Sam managed before Dean spoke again.

“Not for one second did any of those people ever make me forget that it was your body I wanted to touch, your lips I wanted on me, you that I wanted to be balls deep inside of.”

Sam sucked in a breath at that, but Dean wouldn’t stop the verbal assault.

“Do you hear me Sam? Do you understand that every person I ever had was just a shadow to try to chase away my desire for you?  No matter how hard I tried, nothing and no one, ever made me want anything other than you.”

He grabbed Sam’s shoulders and gave a shake, pushing him harder against the car.

“It’s always been you Sam. Ever since the first time I realized what ‘want’ was, it was because I wanted you.  I have been hiding from that my whole life.”

“I ain’t hiding no more man.  And I ain’t running neither.  No more. Unless of course I am running to save your sorry ass again.  Will you please for the love of Chuck stop getting yourself kidnapped?  I don’t know how many more times my heart can take that shit.”

Sam gave a sad, self deprecating half laugh and dropped his head, covering his face behind his hair.

Dean reached up and cupped Sam’s face with his hands, making him come back out of hiding.  “This is it for me baby boy. You are all I have ever wanted and you are all I will ever want.”

Sam couldn’t hold back the sob from breaking free.  “Dammit Dean, will you stop making me cry?”

They both laughed at that.  It was an emotional, exhausted set of laughter, but it was them being real with each other, finally. 

Dean put his other hand up and wiped away Sam’s tears.  He brushed his hair back away from both sides of his face and kept his hands moving until they were positioned behind Sam’s neck.  He pulled with insistent pressure until Sam’s lips were on his.  He could taste the salt from his tears as he licked Sam’s lips open. 

The kiss was soft at first, part apology, part promise.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him closer molding their bodies against one another in the process.

Desire flowed between them and the kisses became more insistent. 

Sam ran his hands down and gripped Dean’s ass. 

“God Sam, the way you make me feel.” Dean moaned as he broke the kiss and began to lick a path down Sam’s long neck.

Sam whispered Dean’s name as he pulled back and tried to stand up straighter.  It didn’t get through the desire that had taken over his brother’s brain.

He tried again louder this time and pushed at Dean’s shoulders with both hands.

“Dean! I need you to take me home right now.”

Dean froze coming out of the lust filled fog in panicked concern. “Shit! Did I do something wrong Sam?”

Fear crept down Dean’s spine.  This was all so new.  Had he pushed Sam too fast?  Did Sam not feel the same?  Had he misread what was going on?  Did talking about all the other people he had been with make Sam change his mind? Had Sam finally realized how genuinely good he was and that he could do so very much better than Dean?

Sam realized his mistake as the emotions flowed vividly across Dean’s expressive face.

“No Dean, I need you to take me home because I want you to fuck me.”

Dean’s eyes flew open wide in shock.  He blinked a couple of seconds and then just as abruptly as he had dragged Sam out of the car, he shoved his supersized brother quickly, yet oh so carefully, back down into the Impala.  He even went so far as to put his hand on Sam’s crown like a police officer would have done to a perp while pushing him down into the seat.

The drive home was at such a high rate of speed Sam had to brace himself around some of the sharper curves so as to not bash his head against the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely that this story still hasn't gotten to the smutty porn that I have promised. I really thought Chapter 5 would be it, but the Winchester angst keeps grounding the plane with ice and snow. I am going right now this minute to finish up the sex chapter. By Grabthar's hammer, I shall not be dissuaded from the porn!!!


	6. A Bruising Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the bunker for some down and dirty time between the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have kept my promise. Here there be smut, smut and more smut. This entire chapter is nothing but sex, porny sex. Tiny bit of feels thrown in for good measure, but just straight up good old fashion sex is the theme of this chapter.
> 
> Still unbeta'd so if it isn't good there is no one to blame but me.

Dean barely had the key out of the ignition before Sam was pulling him from the car. He had a death grip on Dean’s left wrist and was dragging him at an almost full out run from the garage, down the steps into the map room and down the hall.

Dean tripped over his own feet and would have gone down if Sam hadn’t been there to catch him.

“Son of a bitch! Sam your Sasquatch legs are a lot longer than mine.  Would you please slow down?”

Sam stopped so abruptly that Dean ran into him and would have cursed again but his breath was knocked out of him from the force of it.  He realized they were in front of his door a split second before Sam opened it and pushed him through.

Dean’s head was spinning and before he could gather his bearings Sam had his pants down around his booted ankles and he was pushed backwards with his naked ass landing on his memory foam.

“Jeez Sam, I like a little rough and tumble as much as the next guy but this is a little…” a gurgle was all he could manage as Sam’s wet mouth took in the head of his cock and had it halfway to the back of his throat in one swift motion.

Dean sucked in air and tried but failed to swim back to rational thought. The heat of it was overwhelming as was the rhythm of the bobbing of Sam’s head.  It was followed perfectly by the path of his hand that was working the part of Dean he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

Dean could feel his balls pulling tight and that woke him up.  He grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair and gave a hard yank up and back pulling him completely off at the same time he gripped the base of his dick hard shutting down any potential for orgasm in its tracks.

“Easy there tiger,” Dean chuckled at Sam whose already flushed face broke out into a grin.

Dean eased up on both grips and moved his thumb across Sam’s lips to wipe some spit off. Quick as a flash Sam sucked that thumb into his mouth and went at it as thoroughly as he had at Dean’s dick.  Dean dropped his head back onto the bed with a sigh. “Shit Sammy, you are killing me here.”

Sam looked up at Dean with his pupils blown wide and said in a fucked out voice “Why don’t you do something about it then big guy?”

Dean gave a guttural growl and yanked Sam’s hair back harder than before earning a gasp and a little cry for his trouble.  “I want you to stand up and take off all your clothes.  Don’t speak, just nod if you understand.”

Dean heard an audible click in Sam’s throat as he tried to swallow while his throat was at such a harsh angle.  Sam said nothing but nodded and watched for Dean’s approval.  When Dean nodded at him in return and let go of his hair, Sam scooted backwards off the end of the bed where he had been on his elbows over Dean’s lap.

He stood up and as he began to undress, his cheeks went the prettiest shade of pink that Dean could ever remember seeing.  Sam kept swallowing hard and Dean couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or giving such thorough head or what but it was making Dean harder each time he saw Sam’s Adam’s apple bob.

As he watched his brother taking off his clothes, Dean removed his boots and his own pants along with the flannel of the day.  As soon as he caught Sam’s eye again he removed his under shirt, making slow work of it for Sam’s benefit, stretching his body out to its full length backwards on the bed, finally dropping the shirt off the side onto the floor. He knew it had the desired effect when he heard Sam make a harsh intake of breath and saw him stutter step slowly forward towards the bed again.

“Did I tell you to move?” Dean reprimanded sharply.

Sam stopped in his tracks, his eyes moving immediately to Dean’s face.  He shook his head and licked his lips, not from trying to be sexy but unconsciously from pure nerves at what was happening.

They were both now completely naked and each was taking in the sight of the other.  Miles of muscles lean and taught, years of scars on full display, with both cocks hard and standing at attention. 

Dean’s voice was lower than Sam had ever heard it when he demanded “Come lay on top of me and kiss me.”

Sam was instantly there, moving without hesitation, all insecurity lost in the heat of their shared desire.

Dean could taste hints of himself on his brother’s tongue and that made his mind swim again.  He moved his hands up Sam’s back and hooked his left ankle over the back of Sam’s right knee. He pushed his hips up into Sam’s and flipped them both over.

It earned him yet another gasp from Sam, but it was lost to the force of Dean’s tongue delving deep back inside his mouth. Dean had moved them strategically closer to the drawers on the right side of his bed.  While still kissing Sam he reached over and slipped his hand inside retrieving the bottle of lube he kept there and one of the condoms that was right nearby.

Sam heard the wrapper crinkle and pulled back from the kiss.  “No condom Dean.”

Dean had thought Sammy was beautiful from the moment he first laid eyes on him.  That had never changed, no matter what age Sam was, he just got more attractive to him by the day.  Once he grew out of his thin, lanky heroin chic supermodel teen years into his adult body, he became off the charts gorgeous, so much so that it was nearly impossible for Dean to look at him most days without getting immediately hard. But lying there under Dean, looking up at him with nothing but lust and trust in his eyes, he had never looked more beatific.  

What surprised Dean was the request.  He knew neither of them ever had sex without a condom.  John was not known for his A+ parenting skills.  That was never in question.  But one of the best things John had done right with his boys was insist that they protected themselves.  Not only from every monster known to man, but from any STDs known to man as well. 

“Sam?”

“I don’t want anything coming between us again Dean, especially not in this way.  I want to feel every inch of you inside me, please?”

They both felt his dick pulse between them. Dean swallowed hard.  But Sam could tell he was still not convinced.

Sam spread his legs allowing Dean’s groin to settle in heavier against him.  He reached both arms around Dean’s waist and up around his back settling each one in the dip of Dean’s muscular shoulders.  He used his hands as leverage to pull his own body up off the bed rubbing his pre-cum streaming cock up and down against Dean’s.

“That is playing dirty,” Dean managed before a moan took over his train of thought completely. He closed his eyes to enjoy the full sensation for a moment.

When he opened them back up Sam was watching him as a hawk might be watching a mouse from atop a telephone wire. Eager yet alert.  He had sucked in his lower lip and it made Dean want to bite at his mouth. 

Before he could do so, Sam’s face went all innocent and he whispered up at Dean, “I wanna feel it when you cum deep inside me.”

Dean dropped the condom and attacked Sam’s mouth with a vengeance.  He ground himself down onto Sam with all of his strength forcing him back onto the bed and under his control.

Dean kissed like he shot his gun, in control of the situation but with complete abandon as well. Throwing every bit of his energy into the motion but being fully in charge of what was happening.  He bit at Sam’s lower lip as he had wanted but then made his way down his chin and onto his throat.

Sam remembered that first time when Dean had bitten him hard enough to have almost made him come right then, but somehow hadn’t left a bruise. He was sure he would bear a mark from this adventure because Dean began sucking with purpose.  When Dean came to the end of his neck right above Sam’s clavicle he bit down so hard Sam bucked off the bed and he would have cum if Dean hadn’t taken that moment to grab the base of his dick hard, like he had done to his own earlier.

Dean raised up on his elbow and looked Sam in the eyes.  “Not til I say, do you understand?”

Sam lost his breath for a moment.  He had always been the one that ran the show with his partners, manhandling them whatever way he wanted.  He would never have taken himself for a sub in any capacity, but his body ran weak every time Dean had taken that tone with him.  Everything in him just wanted to surrender when he heard Dean’s commands, like a cat will surrender if grasped hard by the nape.  It was somehow an autonomic response in a way he had never experienced with anything before in his life.

He took a shuddering breath and nodded to let Dean know he understood.

Dean dropped the lube next to them on the side of the bed and grabbed both Sam’s wrists in his hands, shoving them above his head, pinning them down on the bed.

Dean bent back over his bite, licking and worrying it like a dog might.

Sam’s dick was leaking profusely and he could feel Dean’s doing the same against his pelvis and lower abdomen as he moved and ground down on him.

Sam wrapped his strong legs around Dean’s hips and pressed his heels down against his ass, pulling him down as hard as he could to get the most friction between them.

Dean moved from his neck, down his chest, leaving a trail of sucks and kisses until he came to Sam’s left nipple. He bit it and sucked at it with as much ferocity as he had his neck.  Sam writhed and groaned under him pulling at his wrists to free them so he could touch Dean.

Dean raised his head and gave a warning “Sam.”

Sam ceased at once. Going still in a way he didn’t understand.  Dean went back to his ministrations.  Sam didn’t move again but he couldn’t stop himself from pleading.

“Dean please,” he whined. “Please I need you to fuck me.”

Dean froze at the words, closed his eyes, taking a deep shuddering breath of his own.  What Sam didn’t realize was that it was taking every ounce of control he had for Dean to not be fucking his brains out already.  He wanted his brother so badly he couldn’t believe he hadn’t cum already.  But the way Sam seemed to be coming apart was giving him the most intense high Dean had ever felt. 

He took a couple more breaths to fight back his orgasm that had almost spilled over from hearing those words come out of Sam that way.

He opened his eyes and he bent down and kissed Sam.  It was full of heat and passion but underneath that there was more love than Dean had ever thought himself capable of.  He fought to hold himself together letting his heart open up in a way he had never done before while in bed with anyone. He took one last shuddering breath and pulled away.

He moved Sam’s arms one on top of the other and gripped both wrists tight with his left hand alone.  Feeling the change, Sam started to pull free, but Dean looked at him sharply and said “Leave them Sammy.”

Sam quieted again and just watched as Dean raised himself up off him slightly and picked the bottle of lube back up in his right hand.

Sam’s eyes got wider but he said nothing else.  His breathing quickened as Dean flicked the top of the bottle open and skillfully turned it upside down in his hand without dropping it, letting the liquid pool in his palm.

Dean watched as Sam bit his own lip again without realizing he had done it.  Dean leaned his head down next to Sam’s and whispered in his ear, “It’s okay Sammy, I’ve got you.”

He quickly kissed Sam one last time and then pulled himself up a little more so that his hand could reach down between Sam’s legs.  He had kept the lube in his cupped hand long enough that when he touched it to Sam’s dick it matched the heat of the pre-cum that was already pooled around it.  Sam and Dean both realized at the same moment that this was the first time Dean had touched Sam in this way. 

They both groaned in tandem and Dean gave a couple of tight strokes before moving down to his balls.  He wanted to spend more time exploring but by the whine that was coming from his brother almost constantly now, he could tell neither one of them would last much longer and he still had to prep Sam thoroughly before this could get under way.

Sam was biting hard into his lip now.  It was the only way he could think to keep his orgasm at bay.  He didn’t realize the fervor with which he was doing so until he tasted blood in his mouth.

It was about that time when Dean first breached him with one finger.  Sam sucked in air and Dean looked up in concern.

“I’m okay Dean, keep going.”  It hadn’t really hurt, he had just been distracted by realizing he had bitten through his lip so it caught him off guard.

“Sam?” It was the same authoritative tone, but it demanded that he be honest. 

“I just didn’t know what it would feel like, please Dean, it feels good.  Please De, I need it, I need you inside me, please don’t stop.”

Dean’s own control was getting strung out and used up so he pushed his finger deeper inside.  A happy groan escaped Sam’s lips and Dean could tell by the way his eyes rolled up in his head that he did indeed enjoy what was happening.

He proceeded with a little less caution than he would have if he had started the prep earlier in the program, but the noises Sam was making indicated that the pace he was setting was well appreciated.  He moved on to two fingers and began splaying them open as soon as he could tell that Sam was used to the added intrusion.  He pushed inside as deep as he could get and Sam’s groans and whines began to be interspersed with ‘ohs’ each time Dean brushed against his prostate. Sam started fighting to try to not buck off the bed when Dean had three fingers pushing deep against that spot.

“Dean if you want me to wait for your permission you need to either give it or get inside me right now because it is too much.  The way you feel is too much to not give into, please De, I don’t want to disappoint you but I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”  Even though it was the first completely coherent thing Sam had managed in a while, his voice was broken and desperate.  When Dean looked into his eyes he could see Sam, struggling to do what was asked of him, but close to a breaking point.

Dean moved his fingers out slowly, and Sam whined from the loss.

“Shh baby boy, you don’t have to wait anymore.”  Sam watched as Dean positioned himself over him.  Dean reached and got more lube quickly but efficiently, slicking himself up.  Sam canted his hips up to make the access easier and Dean’s cock entered Sam for the first time.  Their eyes met and then Dean pulsed his hips forward pushing a louder moan out of Sam than he had made before.  Again Dean wanted to take more time and relish in the sensation but Sam was having none of it and arched up into the motion pushing Dean farther inside himself.  It was Dean’s turn to give a deep moan as he bottomed out.

He leaned down and kissed Sam trying to give them both time to get used to the feeling and the fact that this was actually happening.  That after all this time and all the pain they had gone through to get here, this was it.  This was the way they were supposed to be and they both felt it.

Dean tasted blood in Sam’s mouth and something about that made him feral.  He withdrew almost to the point of coming out of Sam and snapped his hips back in sharply. Sam gasped and Dean bit at his mouth making the self inflicted wounds break open sharper and more intensely.  Dean set a hard pace and had Sam crying out “please, yes, oh god, please" and then the incoherence set in and it was just moans and cries and deep guttural sounds from then on.  Dean could feel himself getting close and Sam had begun keening continuously.   Sam had his eyes closed and his head thrown back at a painful angle.

Dean reached his free hand up and grabbed a fist full of Sam’s hair pulling hard, at the same time he bent and whispered in his ear, “Come for me Sammy.”

Sam spilled over instantly, his body shaking and wracking around Dean.  He began clinching down on Dean’s cock as he thrust even harder and faster than he had been.  Without any forewarning at all Dean’s rhythm stuttered as he began pumping his release deep within Sam.

As soon as Sam felt what was happening he began to whisper “yes, Dean, oh yes, please yes.”

When Dean’s mind came back online he released Sam’s hands and dropped his forehead down next to Sam’s. 

Sam’s arms wrapped tightly around Dean and held on, as he tried to quiet his breathing. 

Dean pulled slowly out of him and Sam gave a sad whine. Dean moved off him and lay down next to him pulling Sam over with him. His left arm slipped underneath his head and wrapped around his shoulder, pulling Sam closer. His right hand began rubbing Sam’s wrists one at a time trying to make sure the circulation was working.

Sam snuggled his head down into Dean’s neck. Dean’s left hand snaked up into Sam’s hair and began stroking through the long locks. 

“You were so good for me Sammy.” 

A sigh of relief came from deep inside Sam.

Dean moved his right hand up to touch Sam’s chin.  He tilted Sam’s head back so that he could reach his mouth.  Sam moved his arm across Dean’s chest and pulled him closer tipping them both on their sides so that every part of them was touching.  They kissed slowly but intensely in a languid rhythm that caused a deep murmur of happiness, but neither one was sure which of them had made it.

Some time later they fell asleep wrapped up in each other and didn’t wake again until morning.  It was the first time that either one could remember in years that they both slept straight through the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest sex scene I have ever written. My head is still foggy from it. Enjoy.


	7. A Different Kind of Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. A little trepidation is to be expected when you have just had sex with your brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be some fluff and emotion. It didn't work out quite that way.

It was still dark in the room when Sam woke up to the smell of bacon wafting into his nose.  He was disoriented at first and had no idea where he was.  But when he moved a little the pull from dried cum on his stomach reminded him in not so nice terms of just where he was and what had happened. 

A moment later, Dean blinded him by turning on the bedside lamp. As he blinked at the intrusion he heard, “Wake up sleepy head!”

A warm washcloth was unceremoniously plopped on Sam’s stomach. 

“I thought you might like a chance to wash up before eating.” There was a smug sound to Dean’s voice but he seemed over the top chipper, like he was trying too hard.

“Thanks.” Sam’s own voice surprised him, it came out almost shy. 

He cleaned himself off quickly as Dean puttered around putting a mug of steaming hot coffee next to Sam on the bedside table.

Sam spotted his favorite kick around sweatpants on the comforter by his feet.  He grabbed them and slipped them on under the covers, not sure why he was feeling so self conscious.

“You’ve been busy this morning.” Sam watched Dean closely.  From the outside he looked as he did every morning, dressed in a t-shirt with his robe, comfy pants, and slippers.  He was acting nonchalant but nervous energy was buzzing off of him. 

“I woke up starving and you were dead to the world so I started cooking.”  He sat a big tray of breakfast food in the middle of the bed and then came back around to put a napkin next to Sam’s coffee.

Sam reached out a hand and grabbed Dean’s wrist before he could move away again.

“Hey.”  Sam didn’t know why his voice came out as a whisper.

Dean finally met Sam’s eyes but then quickly looked away.  Dean made a move to pull free but Sam clamped down like a vice on his wrist.

Dean’s breath caught and Sam was up off the bed in a flash.  There was no thought behind it, only instinct. He pushed Dean hard up against the wall next to his dresser and loomed over him.

“Don’t do this Dean, don’t second guess us.”

“I’m not Sammy, I just..” Sam’s mouth was on his before he could finish his thought.

Dean hummed in appreciation and wrapped his arms around Sam’s back.

The kiss was intense and had them both panting within moments.  Sam reached down inside Dean’s sleep pants and found him as hard as Sam felt himself.  He dropped to his knees and jerked the pants down all in the same fluid motion.  Dean reached out his left hand to steady himself on the dresser and his right went instinctually into Sam’s hair.

He was in Sam’s mouth before he knew what hit him and he had to fight his hips to stay still. 

“Mmpf! Sammy.”

Sam hummed in pleasured response which sent reverberations around Dean’s cock and straight up his spine.

The heat was so intense and Sam took him in even farther than he had the night before.

Dean was using every bit of his self control to be good and easy on his brother.

Sam was having none of it.  He pulled off with a wet slurpy pop.  He gazed up the length of his brother, “Don’t hold back Dean, I can take it.”

To emphasize his point, as he took Dean back in his mouth he reached both hands around to grip Dean’s ass and gave a hard pull on his hips driving Dean farther down his throat.

Dean still didn’t seem to be getting the message as much as Sam would like so he reached his left hand back behind his head to press at Dean’s hand. 

Dean took his left hand off the shelf and ran it through Sam’s silky locks.  “I get it Sam but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Sam gave an exasperated growl deep in his throat which elicited an ‘ugh’ from Dean as if he had punched him in the gut.

Sam pulled off again and looked at his brother with heat and yearning, “Use me, Dean.”

“God Sam!”  Dean grabbed fists of Sam’s hair with both hands and pumped deep into Sam’s mouth.  He gave it all he had with his hips and his hands working in tandem to get every inch inside.

Sam’s hands flexed onto Dean’s ass and held on.  The rest of him went passive and open giving himself over to his brother’s need.  Spit and pre-cum was drooling out of his lips and he was using every relaxation technique he could think to keep his gag reflex from kicking in.  He was so hard he reached into his pants and pulled himself out using his own pre-cum to make his hand slide easy.  He matched the rhythm Dean was setting with each stroke of his own hand.

“Sammy I’m about..”

Sam didn’t let him finish his thought, pulling at Dean’s ass, with his free hand and humming his acknowledgement.

It was the only consent Dean needed and quickly began pumping hot and wet onto Sam’s tongue and down his throat.  His pace slowed enough for Sam to be able to lick and suck at him as he finished but quickly lost his concentration as his own orgasm hit him harder than he expected. 

Sam blissed out for a second until he heard Dean say in exasperation, “Dude! Look at the mess you made on my slippers.

He began to giggle and couldn’t stop and Dean’s “That isn’t funny Sam.” Only made him laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, bonus porn. This wasn't where this chapter was supposed to go, but the boys, they are so bossy. When they want something who can say no? Not this girl, I follow where they lead and love every minute of it. Hope you guys do too.


	8. Debriding Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast in bed leads to a discussion about some old wounds that neither brother expects to be having.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and schmoop ahead.

They ended up back in their sleep clothes sitting opposite each other on the bed eating the now cold breakfast.  Neither one of them could remember anything tasting so good in their entire lives.  The newness of what was happening between them made everything more intense and bright.

They kept touching for no reason other than they could, smiling stupidly at each other in the process.

Dean took a drink of coffee to wash down the biscuit he just finished.  Then looked up at Sam shyly, “Hey Sam, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Sam looked up from his plate. He swallowed down the nerves that instantly grabbed at the base of his spine. “Oh?”

“Yesterday when you said ‘Take me home,’” He paused trying to gather his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Sam asked with trepidation.

“Well, you have always denied that the bunker was your home, it was just where we work.  Baby, yeah, she’s home, but you always fought thinking of the bunker as home. So what changed?”

Sam gave Dean the biggest brightest smile he ever remembered seeing on his baby brother’s face and that was saying a lot, since Dean felt Sam’s smile was one of his best features.

“I fought calling the bunker home, Dean, because I was afraid I would eventually have to leave.”

Dean’s forehead scrunched in confusion mixed with concern.

Sam put his plate aside and pulled his legs up close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees.  “Didn’t you ever notice how I was always running away Dean?”

“Uh yeah Sam, I noticed.” he managed heavy with sarcasm. “It killed me every time.”

“Well it was always because I was close to letting my feelings show.  Something would happen, I would get vulnerable and I would almost let slip how I truly felt.  When we found the bunker and you immediately started heavy duty settling in, it became harder not to let my guard down.  The more you nested, the more my heart wanted to open to you.  I also had a fear that maybe in settling down you would want to find someone else to be here with.”

He hung his head as he spoke quieter by the second. 

“Is that why you were always asking me if I thought about finding another hunter and settling down?” Dean queried.

“Yeah Dean, I wanted to be prepared because I couldn’t live under the same roof with you making a go at a life with someone else. I am not that strong.” A sigh passed his lips.

He drew in a breath to finish. “I also worried constantly that I would fuck up and somehow show you my feelings inadvertently and I would disgust you so badly with my twisted self, that you wouldn’t want me around anymore.”

“Oh Sam.” Dean whispered heavy with dismay.  The love and concern for all the pain Sam had carried unbeknownst to Dean, broke something inside his big brother. 

“No Dean, it’s okay. I need you to hear this.”  He peeked out from under his hair at his brother.

“The only place that has ever felt like home to me was by your side.  So now that I get all of you, that I finally get to truly be by your side in every way, of course this is my home.  I have never wanted a home more than I want this right here right now.” A timid smile pulled at his lips as he finished.

Dean’s eyes were the ones that were tearing now.  But confusion quickly set in again.

“But Sam, all those times when you were a teenager fighting and struggling for ‘normal’ and all those times in heaven, that were your happiest places, they were ‘normal places’ but all without me.”  Hurt and angst weighed heavy in his voice.

“And ‘normal?’” his intonation marked disbelief, “This, us together, is as far away from normal as you can get.”

Sam looked at the tears openly spilling from Dean’s beautiful gemstone eyes and said, “I wanted to be normal so that I could stop wanting to have sex with my brother.  That was the basis for all of it, Dean.  I just wanted to stop wanting you, so that there would be nothing for you to hate me for or for me to have to hide.  That was the normal I was chasing.”

He reached out to Dean’s leg that was stretched towards him on the bed.  He began stroking his hand up and down his shin trying to reassure him.

“That is why so many of my ‘best memories’ were without you. Not because I didn’t want to be with you, but because I felt that when I was away from you, it was the only time you were safe from my desires.  If I was gone, you could have a good life without your freak of a brother being a ticking time bomb waiting to ruin your life.”

Sam shifted his body and moved his plate out of the way so he could get closer to Dean.  He looked down and saw Dean’s right hand had curled into a fist balled up around the comforter where he had been worrying it unconsciously.  Sam stroked at his knuckles until he loosened his grasp enough for Sam to take Dean’s hand in his own.

“None of those times in heaven meant anything to me other than your safety without me.  The only time I could let my guard down and love you, was when I was away from you.”

Sam’s own tears began falling. “It has shattered my heart all these years to know that you thought my heaven was being without you.  I didn’t know how to explain it to you without letting you know why I was running in the first place.  So I just let you hate me for a while.  It killed me when you threw the amulet away over it.  But I couldn’t fix it without telling you that I wanted you.”

“Sammy.”  Dean whispered hoarsely, and wiped at his own face trying to stop the flood to no avail.

“Dean there is no heaven for me without you.  There is no life without you.  My time with Amelia, it was a farce.  I wasn’t happy.  I was living because I knew that was what you would want me to do.  I almost killed myself multiple times after I couldn’t figure out where you and Cas had been portalled to.  No demon would make a deal with me to bring you back, nor even to just give me any information on your whereabouts.  The only thing that stopped me from killing myself was not knowing where you were.  If I had known I would end up wherever you were, I would have done it in a heartbeat.  But I thought that if you ever got back and I had given up and hadn’t tried to make a life without you, you would be pissed at me.”

“I tried to have what you had with Lisa, but mine was just a flicker of living.  Like my life was a moving shadow on the wall behind a flame.” 

The tears were falling too hard for him to continue. 

Dean reached out and pulled him close, docking his head into Dean’s chest. 

“Sammy, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up all these hurtful memories.”

Sam clung to Dean’s shirt with his left hand while his right wrapped around his back pulling him even closer. 

“Dean the only thing that is painful is knowing that you ever thought I could be happy without you.  That you believed my heaven wasn’t all about you.  It was, I just couldn’t explain it.”

Dean began brushing kisses along Sam’s forehead.  “I wonder what our heaven will be like now?”

“As long as I get to be with you Dean, I don’t care what it’s like.  I don’t care if we get heaven, or hell or the Void, Billie keeps threatening us with.  As long as you are by my side, that’s all I care about.”

Dean’s voice was thick when he whispered against his skin, “Me too Sammy, me too.”

Sam looked up into Dean’s soulful eyes and kissed him.  They were both snotty and their tears mingled across their lips but it was the deepest most heartfelt kiss either of them had ever experienced.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep trying to get back to episodic happenings, but the boys are having none of it. They have their own timetable evidently.


	9. Still the Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotional feelings that occur during Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox episode. Trying to deal with their new relationship and facing their Mom again for the first time since she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 9 and 10 were written together as one chapter. It became so long and unwieldy and had such a distinct vibe change that I spit it in two.

“Dude come on, I’m exhausted.”  Dean said with a sigh.

“All the more reason to stop and see Jodie and the girls.” Sam groused.  He looked as tired as Dean felt. “We can stop, relax, catch up and see how they are, all while getting to just chill and rest.” 

Dean was trying not to pout.  He had wanted to get a motel and some intimate time with Sam.  He swallowed hard.  His hands began to shake on the wheel a little and he flexed them.  It wasn’t just needing to be in Sam like he needed to breathe, there was more causing his muscles to tense.

Sam noticed the change in Dean’s demeanor at once.  It was more than just being tired.  Something was going on.

“You okay? We don’t have to stop if you don’t want.  I just thought you could use a break from driving before we finished the last leg of the trip back to the bunker.”

“No, yeah you’re right.  It would be good to check on Alex and Claire, not to mention maybe get some more of that homemade grub Jodie is so good at.”  He tried for cheerful but could tell Sam wasn’t falling for it.

“Dean? What’s up?” Sam’s concern dug around in Dean’s stomach like always.

He hated keeping shit from him, but he wasn’t sure what to do with how he felt.

“Come on Sam it’s nothing.”

Sam turned in his seat.  “Spill it Dean.”

Dean sighed.  It was even harder to keep Sam out of his head now that they were really together.  It was nearly impossible for him to have any secrets anymore.  Not that secrets from Sam were ever good, but…

“They are the first people we know that we will have been around since…you know…” A blush spread underneath his freckles.

“OH!” Sam finally caught on to what was going on with him.  “Dude we lie for a living.”

“I know, but I just feel like now that I get to have you as mine, it is just hard not to let my guard down and I am afraid I will slip up somehow.”

“We have been keeping our feelings for each other secret our entire lives.  I don’t think you will forget and grope me in front of the girls.”

“Shut up! Bitch!”

“Stop being stupid, Jerk!”

Jodie met them at the door with the information that they had missed the girls but she had food to offer so that was a bonus.

Hanging out with her was easier than Dean had feared.  Except, of course, when his brat of a brother outed him about his taste in Hentai.  So not cool.

The drive to Canada was long on top of their already exhausting case, but hanging out with Jodie was really great and Dean got to regale her with details of his taking down Hitler.

After meeting everyone at the wake and mingling for what Dean felt was an appropriate amount of time, he wandered off on his own.  He never felt very comfortable around other hunters but today it reminded him of his dad and how he always kept them at a distance.

He was busy going through Asa’s stash of weapons and info about his hunting exploits when Sam came searching for him. 

“Did you know people tell stories about us?” Sam asked with incredulity.

“Yeah, apparently we’re a bit legendary.” Dean answered in his _it’s so cool but I’m too cool to get excited over the cool of it all_ swag way.

But it wasn’t until Dean offhandedly commented about Asa, “Died on the job, no better way to go.” That Sam got worried.

“Do you really believe that?” Sam asked eyebrows rising in concern, eyes getting a little glassy waiting for his reply.

Dean turned and confirmed Sam’s fear, “Yeah why, you don’t?  I mean come on Sam, it’s not like we’re in the ‘you live til your ninety die in your sleep’ business.”

It hit Sam in the sternum.  It would have hurt less if Dean had punched him there with enchanted brass knuckles, than it did from what he said.

Dean turned and pointed at Asa’s wall of fame, “This only ends one way.”

It was stated with such fact, no qualms, no fear, just pure belief on Dean’s part.

Sam couldn’t think. He knew Dean had felt that way before, but with all they are to each other now, he thought maybe he wouldn’t have had such a belief in the inevitable outcome of a hunter’s life for them.

He didn’t know how to deal with the intensity of what he was feeling at the moment, so he just suggested they get back to the group. 

They had only just found distraction in teasing Jodie about her sweet sweet time alone with Asa, when their mom walked in.

Both brothers were stunned and taken aback by seeing her there.

The discomfort that they all felt was obvious to Jodie when she was introduced to Mary.

As much as Dean had told Sam he understood that she needed space, and as much as he had worried about her seeing the difference in the brothers’ relationship, the agony that came out of him as he confronted her saying “So you’ll text us once a week, maybe, but you’ll drive all the way to Canada to see some dead guy?” gave Sam another punch to the solar plexus that he had no way to protect himself from.

All Sam could do in that instant was stop their mom from going after him.  Sam wanted to follow Dean himself, but knew he needed time, and didn’t know how to keep Mary away if they both went outside together.  He couldn’t comfort Dean the way he wanted to anyway with everyone around, so he chose to stay with her.

Jodie’s family talk with Dean helped give him a different perspective, but it did little to ease his suffering.  All Dean wanted was to be far away from here with Sam in his arms and to lose himself in his brother.  But he couldn’t have what he wanted.  So he tried to just breathe and get his emotions under control outside.

Sam followed Mary into Asa’s room.  She was not much better at admitting her feelings than Dean was.  At least his brother came by his cordoned off emotions honestly.

Sam tried to explain to Mary how Dean was feeling.  He tried to make her understand their fears of her rejecting them as hunters.  He tried to make her see that he understood what she was doing and not to pressure her.  But he felt pulled in two directions inside.  Not knowing exactly how to handle any of what he was feeling himself.  There was such a disconnect from her for him, but yet the emptiness and longing for a mother he had always felt was still there, in spite of her being flesh and blood not five feet in front of him. 

His heart was yearning to be out with Dean.  He desperately longed to take Dean’s hand, jump in Baby and just drive away.  But he had to face this, face her, try to get some of these feelings out in the open or it would just continue to fester.

He tried to bond with her about how it felt to try to walk away from hunting.  Tried to let her know he knew how hard escaping was, because hunting was in their blood.

He thought that by them saying goodbye to Asa together, it would help them form a memory they could build on.  But instead it just helped them find a vengeful demon they had to face together.

In the mean time, outside Dean was in a vile mood.  But as soon as Billie showed up and gloated that she had reaped a fresh soul in the house Dean went into panic mode.

He had to get inside.  When he attacked the door, finding it magically sealed amped up his dread by a thousand fold.

He had to get to Sam.  Nothing would be okay ever again unless he could get to Sam.  It was all he could think as he frantically fought to get inside.  When his mind finally calmed long enough to realize Billie had been inside in spite the warding, he leapt at the chance.

Owing the reaper seemed like a trifle of a thing to get to Sam.  As he flew through the door all he could think was “hold on Sammy, I am coming for you!”

He barreled through the warding and hit the ground in a roll.  Up and on his feet he growled at the first people he saw “Where’s my brother?”

After fighting the demon and seeing what kind of evil son of a bitch he was, all Dean could do was yell “Sammy?”

The tightness in his chest that had been there since Billie first showed up, finally let loose a little when Sam came into view.  He only had eyes for him, and barely even registered that their mom was there too. There was no time to be cordial and they went right into planning mode.  When Mary heard his plan she was impressed, and her praise touched that part of Dean that often felt not good enough.  But he didn’t have time to think about it.

Later when the demon was in Jodie, it got frustrated and threw everyone down, pinning them to the ground. It began taunting Sam as he lay prostrate. Dean felt anger like he couldn’t believe.  The fact that the demon dared do that in the first place was bad enough, but to tease him about being Lucifer’s meat suit in front of their mom, he knew that was going to hurt Sam deeply.  But all Dean could do was lay and watch for an opening.

After they exorcised the demon, Dean took his frustration and anger out on Bucky.  Shaming him bitterly for what he did to Asa.  He wasn’t wrong, but the vengeance with which he spoke to him was more about his anger from feeling powerless to protect Sam. 

As Jody spoke with their mom the next day, watching the dead hunters burn, Sam only had eyes for Dean.  His wounds from their mom were so open and raw.  There hadn’t been a chance for them to talk privately at all, or for him to comfort Dean in the slightest.  He could feel the anxious energy pouring off of Dean as they leaned against Baby and waited.  It took all the strength inside Sam not to reach out and touch his brother, soothe him in any way he could.  It made his hands ache not being able to do so.  Sam kept his hands in his pockets as a small barrier to keep them off of him.

Dean was struggling in the same way, having to hold his hands together out in front of himself.  Every particle of his being itched at not being able to smother himself in Sam, the way he longed to do.  He watched Mary, trying to fight the bitterness and fear of rejection once more welling up inside him. For Sam’s sake he had to keep up a brave front.

Hearing Billie say that Mary hated being here, stabbed at her boys deep in their souls.  As much as they feared her finding out about them, they needed her.  There were empty parts inside both of them that only she could fill and she had yet to even try. Hearing that she was miserable being with them just reiterated what they already felt from her leaving in the first place.

Billie saying that Mary felt all alone, and in spite of Dean’s insistence that she wasn’t alone, to have Mary all but agree that was how she felt, it broke something inside Sam.  He was the one that had tried to understand.  He was the one that held out hope.  But seeing her even contemplate going with Billie, it cut at Sam in a way nothing else about her had.  Knowing what that would do to Dean was the worst of it for Sam.  Knowing that if she left them forever, it would break what little bit of that tiny four year old boy that was left in Dean and there would be no getting him back.

Sam was visibly relieved by Mary turning Billie down and even hopeful and happy as he asked “Does this mean you’re coming home?” 

But Dean remained stoic and skeptical as was his way. It immediately proved the correct move as Mary yet again disappointed Sam by saying “Yeah, not quite yet.”

Sam visibly deflated.  Upon seeing that, Dean went into protect Sammy mode, and tried to make it better at any cost to himself. “Can we buy you breakfast at least?”

He hoped that more time with her would ease Sam’s disappointment.

Sam put his arm around Mary, hoping that through touch he might find the connection he was hoping for.  But the gap was still there.


	10. In the Wake of Emptiness, Fulfillment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find solace in each other after the emotionally draining situation with their mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this is unbeta'd and all errors are my own.

At the diner after the makeshift funeral, the Winchesters ate and laughed and acted the part of a family trying to heal itself, but it wasn’t until Mary was gone again and the boys were finally alone back home in the bunker that either of them let their guards down fully.

When they had stowed their gear and Dean had poured them both a drink, he walked over to Sam where he was sitting at the library table to set the glasses down. 

Before taking his own seat he asked “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Dean didn’t want to wait for Sam to ambush him about his own feelings.  He thought it would be better to grab the bull by the horns this time.

He was shocked by Sam’s answer.  “No Dean, I really don’t.”

There was a harshness to his tone that Dean knew wasn’t towards him. 

He stood up and moved over behind Sam, rubbed his hand up his back and was rewarded with a sigh of relief.  Sam’s head fell forward and his hair hung down around his face. 

Dean massaged at his shoulders earning a moan of pleasure.  He took both hands and ran them through Sam’s hair and then down either side of his taut neck muscles.  “Man you are tight.”

He worked at the hard knots that were built up from the stress of the last couple of days and when his brother felt more pliable and relaxed he ran one hand back up under his long silky locks.

A plethora of small happy sounds had escaped Sam’s lips at Dean’s skills but when his hand went into his hair, it elicited a deeper moan that twisted things low in Dean’s belly.

He brushed Sam’s hair out of the way and planted an open mouth kiss on the back of his neck.  The moan turned into a groan which caused Dean to tighten against his own jeans.

As he kissed and sucked his way around Sam’s neck he ran his right hand up into his hair again.  He gave a hard yank ripping a gasp out of Sam.  He twisted his hold to the right at an angle so he could get to his brother’s open mouth.  He plunged his tongue deep into the heat of Sam searching and seeking getting back as good as he gave.

Sam turned in his chair and pulled at Dean’s hips dragging him closer.  Sam kicked out with his leg at the chair next to him that was crowding the space so that he could make room to position Dean even closer.  Dean planted both his legs on either side of Sam’s.  He had dropped his hold on Sam’s hair when he moved around to face his brother.  He used his hands now to take hold of both sides of Sam’s face deepening the kiss even further. 

Sam worked his long arms up Dean’s sides, around his back until he came to his shoulders.  He took hold and he yanked down hard until Dean was straddling his lap. He landed with a muffled ‘hmmpf’ but didn’t break the kiss.

Sam ran his hands down Dean’s back and cupped his ass.  It was Dean’s turn to groan at the pressure.  He moved his hips grinding his dick against Sam’s belt and abdomen.

Sam ran his hands up Dean’s chest and under his over shirt.  He peeled the heavy outer layer off and then moved his hands to pull at the t-shirt underneath.

Sam broke from Dean’s mouth by saying “Off.” 

He pulled back long enough for Dean to comply and then he was on him again.  But instead of finding his mouth he kissed down his cheek across his stubbled jaw.  He sucked and bit at Dean’s throat eliciting a guttural sound to echo against the library walls.

“Sammy.” Was all Dean managed before Sam bit down harder against his neck, paying him back for the bite that had aged to look like a fight bruise just under Sam’s own collar.

Dean rocked harder against him and Sam was achingly stiff now himself.

He moved down Dean’s chest tilting him backwards with his hands so he could bend to better reach his nipple.  He licked and sucked at it but when he bit down hard Dean barked out a sharp sound that ended in a growl. 

It caused a shiver to run the length of Sam’s spine.

Sam braced his legs and stood carrying Dean up with him.  Dean’s legs instinctively wrapped around Sam’s waist and he held on tight in surprise.

Sam twisted them sideways placing Dean’s ass down on the library table.  He pushed Dean’s torso hard to get him to lay back.  Then he worked at Dean’s belt and pulled his jeans down as far as they would go with his boots still on.

He licked up the length of Dean’s dick wracking a sob of want from his lips.

He bent and worked one boot off his foot and then the other.  When Dean was completely naked and spread out before him, he took him in hungrily with his eyes.

He went down on his knees and Dean threw his head back so hard in anticipation that it clonked on the table with a loud thud.  They were both too lost in desire to care.  He manhandled Dean’s legs up and over so that the back of his knees hung on Sam’s shoulders.  He grabbed Dean’s hips and pulled him closer to the edge of the table.  It wasn’t until Sam had his hands under his ass and spread his cheeks that Dean realized the focus wasn’t going to be on his waiting dick.

“Sammy whatcha doin…” he didn’t manage to finish the thought as Sam plunged his tongue into his hole.

“Ughmmpf” was all Dean managed before Sam had him hooked on the feeling.

Sam licked and worked at his hole with his tongue and couldn’t get deep enough.  He raised up higher on his own knees so that Dean’s legs on his shoulders would pull him up higher and give a better angle.  He plunged his tongue as deep as he could over and over, relishing the heat from inside and the noises Dean was making.  He was sloppy wet and Sam couldn’t get enough.  He took a finger and pushed it inside next to his tongue using the copious amounts of spit he had left in his wake to ease the way. 

Dean let out a harsh “Sam” but then went back to groaning as Sam found the pressure point deep inside.

Sam continued the onslaught with his tongue and inserting more fingers, working relentlessly until Dean was relaxed and open inside but taut as a drum everywhere else from want.

Dean reached down and squeezed the base of his own dick.  He couldn’t believe he was just this side of coming untouched from his first rim job.  Sammy was making him feel things he had never dreamed.

Sam saw the motion and concluded it was now or never.  Without a word he stood, leaving his fingers deep inside.  With his free hand he unzipped and took himself out.  Dean’s eyes got wide and his breathing caught, but he said nothing in response.  He licked his lips and gave a quick nod to Sam’s raised eyebrows.

Sam took it for the permission it was.  His mouth was still watering from the taste of Dean so he used that to lick at his own palm until it was soaking.  He combined the spit and his own slick which was leaking profusely to lube himself as much as possible.

He moved closer and Dean propped his feet against the table and opened his knees wide to full extension.  Sam gave one more push deep inside with his fingers rubbing once more against his prostate.  Dean gave a deep grunt as Sam withdrew them only to place the head of his dick at his opening in their stead. 

Dean watched Sam as he positioned himself and began to enter him.  Dean let out a low sharp breath as Sam’s head breached his hole. 

Sam kept a slow constant pressure as he moved farther in.  Dean began to pant as it got tighter and harder to breathe.  Sam reached out and stroked Dean’s cock and that was enough to allow him full access.  Dean’s own pleasure eased the resistance and Sam bottomed out.

They were both panting now.  Sam was trying to let Dean get used to the sensation but Dean was having none of it.  Dean wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist and propped himself up on his elbows. He reached for Sam and grabbed him hard behind his neck, pulling him into a vicious kiss.  Sam pumped him again and Dean groaned. 

He fell back against the table as Sam began withdrawing, stopping when only his head was left inside. 

Sam looked at his brother all splayed out before him.  His body was sheened in sweat, flushed all over his torso.  His cock was purple and dripping against his stomach.

His pupils were blown wide barely showing a dark ring of green as they met Sam’s hazel ones.  “Come on Sam, take me dammit!” Dean demanded through gritted teeth.

Sam heeded his instructions immediately, slamming his body into Dean with no mercy.  He bent his knees almost going into a squat so that when he pushed into Dean the next time it was harder but also at an upward angle.

He could tell he had struck his intended mark as Dean’s torso arched up off the table and a loud “fuck” reverberated around the room.

Sam kept that angle and had at it with all his energy, using his strong muscles to push as hard as he could into Dean.  He took hold of his hips so that he could control him on the withdraw as well.  The pace was harsh and both of them were making noise now.

Sam began pumping Dean’s dick in earnest matching the rhythm with his own hip snaps.

He had never felt anything like being inside his brother.  It was overwhelming and everything in the room was fuzzy except Dean.  Dean’s body seemed to glow from the inside with the way the warm lights of the room hit the sweat and made it glisten all over, his well toned muscles rippling under his skin, as he took what Sam gave.

Dean was out of his mind.  He was making deep guttural noises he couldn’t recognize as coming from inside himself.  They were bestial and primal of a sort he hadn’t heard since hell.

He was mad with lust and it seemed the harder Sam fucked into him and the harder he jerked Dean’s dick, the more Dean wanted.  He looked up at Sam lording his height over him and barely recognized his face.  Sam’s pupils were wide with just a golden ring around them to let him know it was still his brother. His face was twisted with desire to the point he looked like he was in pain, but also just this side of rage as if he were ready to kill someone instead of fucking into Dean with all he had.

Dean didn’t want this to ever end.  He felt as if he was being ripped apart from the inside out and it was the hottest thing he had ever experienced. But he soon realized his body was just shy of release. 

“Sammy” he barely managed, his voice raw and jagged.

Sam’s eyes snapped up to his face immediately, but his body didn’t stop the violence. 

“Come inside me Sam.”

With a sound as agonized as death Sam obeyed.  Upon feeling Sam’s cum spilling inside him, Dean could hold back no longer.  He sprayed hot and wet down Sam’s fist and all over his own torso.

When Sam saw the mess, it made him ache and in spite of being at the end of his own release his body instinctively pumped against Dean stutteringly a few more times.

Dean’s body began to shudder, from the overwhelming adrenaline dump.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s torso, pulling him into a kiss.  Dean’s arms went around Sam’s neck limply.

Sam pulled back just enough out of the kiss to be able to say, “Wrap your legs around me a minute.”

Dean complied as best as he could. Sam stood straight up and gripped his own wrist with the opposite hand underneath Dean’s ass, creating a makeshift support to hold his brother’s weight. 

Sam backed away from the table carrying Dean this way and walked as quickly as his own shaky legs would allow to Dean’s room.

He placed Dean gently on the bed and began undressing himself.  Dean watched him with sleepy eyes. 

“I can’t believe I just let you carry me to bed.”  Dean’s voice was playing at being disgruntled but not quite succeeding, his full lips pouting at the end of the statement. 

A deep throated chuckle rumbled out of Sam as he stared at Dean lain out before him.  His brother looked wrecked in the best way.  Eyes heavy lidded and stomach still a mess. 

He bent over Dean and gave a lick across his abdomen.  Dean’s dick jumped slightly where it lay across the crease between his hip and thigh in an attempt to show appreciation, but failed to do more.  He lapped at him until he was mostly clean. Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s sweaty hair and hummed happily at the debauchery.

Sam climbed into bed pulling the covers up and over both of them.  He turned so that Dean could be the big spoon, as he liked to do, and as Dean snuggled against him and snuffled at his hair falling against the back of Sam’s neck, he sighed contentedly. 

Sam was almost asleep when Dean whispered, “Hey Sammy, guess what?”

“Yeah Dean?” came his sleepy reply.

In his happy fucked out voice Dean sighed, “I killed Hitler.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the full chapter of porn makes up for the heaviness of Chapter 9. 
> 
> I also wanted to address the fact that I changed Sam and Dean's top and bottom roles. I know some people have specific desires for them to be one way or the other and I completely respect that. But for me, these two are so in love, it goes beyond love. They desire each other to such an extent that I believe they would want whatever they can get in any way they can have it, and as much as they can have it. Basically Sam wants ALL of Dean and Dean wants ALL of Sam. So their sex life being fluid and changing in this way just made sense to me. 
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think, even if you disagree with me.


	11. What if he is right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a hard time dealing after Lucifer burns through Vince Vincente .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this is unbeta'd so please excuse any grammatical errors. Feel free to tell me about any of them though so I can fix and make it better. I am so sorry for how long it has taken since the last update. Hopefully the next installment will be sooner.

“We did save the crowd so I’m gonna call that a win,” Dean tried his best to be positive in the shit storm of a mess Lucifer had left them.

Sam’s response was flat. “I wouldn’t.” With sadness followed by “It’s all on us. We’re not winning, we are just losing slow.”

Hearing it was a gut punch to Dean.  Seeing despair on Sam’s face, having to be the voice of hope was not the norm for Dean but seeing Sam as the one being hopeless, it was too much, too hard. 

With Cass and Crowley there, Dean couldn’t pull Sam into his arms to comfort him.  But with the frustration and guilt radiating off Sam, Dean wasn’t even sure he would welcome the touch.  Everything was so convoluted by Lucifer and his history of torturing Sam that Dean wasn’t sure he could ever make it right.

He was so proud of Sam and how he had faced Lucifer in spite of the fear that had to be roiling through him.  But he knew with the way Sam was looking, he wouldn’t be open to hearing it right now.

They drove back to the bunker in silence.  Sam was withdrawn and closed off pulling himself as far to his side of Baby as possible, all but turning his body towards the door.

Dean couldn’t swallow without pain around the raw panicked lump in his throat.  They hadn’t been this alienated from one another since sharing their first kiss.  It was killing him.

Sam all but ran from the garage before Baby’s engine had even quieted, leaving Dean to take their bags in by himself.  He was at a loss as to how to help bridge the distance.

After stowing their gear Dean heated up some food, hoping the smell of it would bring Sam to the kitchen.  Not having any luck he began a search and found him in Sam’s own room slumped down on the far side of his bed on the floor with his head on his knees. 

“Heya Sam, come eat.”  He tried for light but didn’t quite reach it.

“M’not hungry.” Came his muffled reply, not even bothering to raise his head.

“Come on Sam, we will get him, don’t worry.” Dean took a patch of floor next to Sam.  He didn’t pull away from his nearness but Dean felt Sam’s muscles go rigid at the proximity.

“It isn’t about getting him or not getting him Dean.” Sam stood abruptly and walked around Dean and the bed towards the door.

“Then tell me what it is about!” Dean’s voice came out harsh and hard.  Demanding. He stood up and closed the distance between them in a few angry strides.

“It isn’t fair Dean.” That stopped Dean’s forward momentum.

Sam’s shoulders went from hunched to slumped in the span of only a breath.  “All we do, all we ever do is fight and lose, even when we win a battle, even when we win big, it is at too large a cost.  What if Lucifer was right.  What if it is all meaningless?”  He sighed and his head dropped, hiding his face behind the curtain of hair.  “What if nothing really matters, none of what we do, none of what it has cost us, what if it is all for nothing?”

Dean closed the distance and got up in his space.  He grabbed a handful of hair and jerked with one hand, clasping Sam’s right bicep with the other.  At the same time he kicked the back of Sam’s left knee with his heel causing him to drop to the floor unbalanced. 

Sam gasped from the unexpected pain and shock.  Looking up at Dean with wild uncertain eyes.

His right hand was still tangled in his hair and his left hand moved up to grasp Sam’s upturned jaw tightly earning another gasp.

“So what Sam?” Dean growled.  “So what if Chuck is off playing with Amara leaving us all here to deal?  So what if Lucifer is just finding another vessel?  So what if Mom is off doing who knows what not caring enough about us to know we are struggling?”

Sam’s eyes were searching Dean’s face for answers.  Confusion and hurt were radiating off of him, but all he could do was attempt to swallow while Dean held him tightly in place.

“So what if nothing in this entire world matters a goddamned bit?” Dean yelled into Sam’s face.

Sam managed a whispered “De?” before Dean gave another hard yank on his hair.

Dean loosened his grip on Sam’s jaw, sliding his hand down his throat and tightening around it slightly. Dean felt every muscle of his neck under his touch as Sam tried to swallow again.

“This Sam, this between us is real.  This matters.  The world can fucking burn for all I care as long as I have you and can put my hands on you, can have you the way I want to, the way we were meant to be together.  I killed Death for you.  There is nothing I wouldn’t do for us to be together and if that means facing Lucifer over and over again until we finally put that bastard back into his cage, so be it.”

Tears began running down Sam’s cheek.  “The cost is too much.  Too many people are dying.”

“Damn it Sam.” Frustration huffed out of Dean.  “Don’t you get it?  People are going to die with or without us.  But if we lose faith in this, in us, then it really is all for nothing.”

“Maybe we do struggle and fuck up and cost lives, but not nearly as many as we save.  Yes it seems like we are on a fucked up hamster wheel sometimes, but Sam, we save lives.  We have done so much more good in this world than we have bad and I will never stop believing in the good in you.”

Sam slumped against Dean.  That had been it; that was what was eating at Sam. It hit Dean like a ton of bricks.  The kid was blaming himself again for all this.  For Lucifer, for the deaths tonight, for everything.  He always wanted to blame himself.   

Dean let go and fell to his knees in front of Sam.  Pulling his brother into a hug as Sam cried against him.

“I am just so tired Dean.”

“I know baby boy, I know.” Dean held him close.  He pulled them both down farther onto the floor and began rocking Sam against his shoulder. Stroking his hair with one hand and rubbing circles on his back with the other.

He scooted backwards pulling Sam with him until his back pressed the side of the bed.

“We are okay.  We will do what we always do and find a way to get the bastard, then maybe we will take a vacation.”

Sam snorted.  “A vacation, what is that?”

They both huffed out small bits of laughter.  Neither having the energy for more than that.

“I made some food, why don’t you climb into bed and I will bring it in here and we can get some rest immediately after. “Whaddya say?”

They both got up slowly.  Sam crawled into bed, kicking off his shoes as he went.  Dean headed towards the door.

“Dean, wait.”

“Yeah Sammy?”

Tears had begun to flow again down his cheeks past his jaw. “Thanks for always taking care of me.”

“Sam…”

“No I mean it Dean.”  His voice got caught in his throat.  Sam swallowed hard and cleared his throat then tried again.

“You have been looking out for me my entire life and I don’t know how to make you understand what it all means to me… what you mean to me.  Knowing that you are there, that no matter what, you have my back, that you know how to give me what I need even when I have no clue what that might be. I can't even begin to tell you what that gives me.  What you give me...”

Dean walked back to the bed and sat on the edge facing his brother.  He took his hand.  It seemed weird, they had fucked like rabbits, but holding hands was on a completely different intimacy level and it opened something deep inside Dean.

It must have had a similar effect on Sam because his breath caught in his chest and stuck there for a minute.

Sam looked deep into Dean’s eyes and said “I would die for you Dean and I would kill for you without question.”

“I know Sammy, I feel the same way.”  Dean took a breath, “But what I really need from you Sam is for you to live for me.  Don’t give up on us, on this.”  He squeezed Sam’s hand tight.

“I need you more than I need food or breath.”  It was Dean’s turn to clear his throat around the emotions welling up.  “You are what I need most Sam, I can’t live without you, I wouldn’t want to.  You gotta keep going and not give up okay?”

“Yeah Dean, yeah.” Sam reached for him and pulled him into a kiss.  It was quiet and soft and slow and not like any of their previous kisses.  It was full of emotion and pain and promise and had a depth that touched both of their souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suddenly hit a brick wall and had such a block with this story. I don't know why because it was flowing like gangbusters until I finished chapter 10 and then nothing. For so long just nothing. The boys gave me the silent treatment and I had to force myself with this chapter. It was painful and emotional and I don't know where it came from but I hope it eases up for all our sakes.


	12. Realizing What's Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing the impossible task of beating Lucifer while he is residing in the President of the United States causes Sam to have a very hard time emotionally. Dean has to help him with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken so long. I was blocked. No clue why but I am just glad the boys are talking to me again. As always this is unbeta'd and so all mistakes are my own. Feel free to point them out.

Seeing the picture of Jefferson Rooney, the actual President of the United States, and hearing Crowley say that the man is now Lucifer’s vessel, Sam couldn’t breathe.  He looked up at Dean with fear in his eyes.

He tried to hold it together.  Tried to pay attention as Dean and Cass discussed options and gathered intel, but the wings of panic kept battering around inside his chest like a giant raptor was in there trying to beat its way out.

He felt shame and guilt as he dialed the number to Mick Davies.  Turning to the British Men of Letters that had kidnapped and tortured him was wrong, he knew it, and knew Dean would be disappointed in him.  But this situation was huge, and impossible and wrong and they needed help.  As soon as he heard the Brit’s voice though, he couldn’t go through with it. 

Later when Ketch outed the call to Dean and Cass, the look of surprised disappointment that swept across Dean’s face was small.  No one else would have seen it as a sign of betrayal but Sam knew.  Knew he had once again let his brother down, simply because he let his fears get the better of him.

Sam seethed on his self loathing as they drove to meet up with Crowley.  Dean kept looking over at him, but they couldn’t talk or address the issue with Cass in the car.  It was hard enough for the brothers to discuss things like this but next to impossible with an audience. 

As the group in the motel discussed the plan of how to blast Lucifer with the hyperbolic pulse generator, or as Dean had taken to calling it, the Exorcist egg bomb, Sam could tell Dean was getting more and more unhappy.  The fact that Sam would be the one to use the bomb had made Dean decidedly more than grumpy.  Sam couldn’t help but feel defensive about it.  It lit a match to his paper thin self esteem as if Dean didn’t trust him to get the job done. 

Dean could tell something was wrong with Sam.  It wasn’t just his going behind Dean’s back to call the sons of bitches that had tortured him.  It was the way he was being so defensive about wanting to be the one to use the bomb, like he had something to prove.  _Shit, not this again._  

Dean grabbed Sam and said, “Listen, I need to talk to Sam a second.  You guys keep planning and we’ll be right back.”

Dean manhandled Sam out the door and into the woods surrounding the cabin duplexes.

Sam struggled against the pushing but didn’t really put up much of a fight.

“Dean what’s this about?  We don’t have time for anything but planning.”

“Shut it Sam and listen will you?”  Dean tried to calm the frustration he was feeling.  Lucifer pushed Sam’s buttons.  That was understandable, but he had to help Sam ease up somehow.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me about calling the Brits okay, but we are square, don’t worry about it.”

Shock was written all over Sam’s face.

“You don’t have to be sorry about it okay. Do I hate that you didn’t tell me, hell yes,” Dean’s jaw was tight and his brow furrowed.  He sighed, “But they helped.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t know what we would have done to get out of the jam with the Secret Service, let alone come up with a better shot at sending Lucifer back to the cage than that egg bomb thing.”

He rolled his shoulders to loosen the tension in them before continuing.

“What I really need you to hear is that you have nothing to prove okay, not now not ever.  You want to be the one to take Lucifer down, fine, more power to you, but know this, I will never be happy about you putting yourself in harm’s way.”

Dean raised his hand to show he wasn’t done, nor did he want to go through the ‘you put yourself in harm’s way all the time Dean’ that he knew was coming.

“I get it Sam.  I know you don’t want to see me hurt anymore than I want to see you hurt.  But you have this chip on your shoulder that I don’t know how to knock off.  Yes you are my kid brother, you will always be my kid brother, and my mission since I was four years old has been to take care of you.”

Again he put his hand up as Sam took a breath to jump in.

“That ain’t it.” The frustration was scrabbling to come back.

“I need you to hear me Sam.  My looking out for you and caring more about you than I do myself has nothing to do with you not being capable.”

He grabbed Sam by the shirt and jerked him closer.  “You have been just as capable and strong and good at hunting as I am since before you went to Standford.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised in disbelief but he said nothing.

“Hell if I’m being honest, you’ve been better at some stuff since you were 14 years old.”

That made Sam’s jaw drop in shock. 

“You’ve always been the better planner Sam, the smarter one,”

“No Dean.”  Sam couldn’t stand for that one.

Dean put a few fingers gently against Sam’s lips and whispered “Please Sam, just listen,” Dean searched Sam’s eyes for acquiescence.

Sam couldn’t help but be still and stare into Dean’s eyes in return.

“I need you to hear me Sam.”  Dean took a hard swallow.

“If you say you are the one to use the Exorcist egg on Lucifer, I will back your play, but it needs to be for the right reasons.  If it is to finish this horrible thing between the two of you for some kind of closure, so be it.  If it is because you feel logistically it is the right call, then I will back your play.  But if it is because you still believe you somehow have something to prove, that you are somehow not good enough, or less than, then I can’t back that at all.  You have to have your head on straight for this to work Sam.”

“You’re a tough son of a bitch Sam, no one doubts that, not me, not any of those people in that room and certainly not Lucifer.”

That again got a shocked look from Sam.  His shoulders slumped and Dean could see the disbelief trying to creep back in.

“Damn it Sammy,” he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him then pushed him back against the nearest tree.

“You held Lucifer back enough to throw him in the cage the first time you faced him, and your poor soul survived a century of torture from him. When he tricked you into the cage a second time, you stood toe to toe with him, in spite of that torture, and you never gave him what he wanted.  No other mortal could do that, hell, no other angel could.”

“Sam, you have nothing to prove to anyone except yourself and if you are feeling this bad after all the shit ton of things you have withstood, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Sam saw the wind go out of Dean.  Dean let up on the pressure holding Sam against the tree, but didn’t let go of him.  He ran his hands down Sam’s arms and back up again, trying to soothe him with touch, since logic didn’t seem to work.

Sam replayed in his head the things Dean had said.  Thought about all he had been through in just the last few months, let alone in his life, and lastly in his fighting against Lucifer.  

Sam could feel the weight of what Dean was saying.  He could feel the truth in his words and how much belief he had behind what he had said. He realized Dean believed it to his core.

Maybe Sam would never shake the doubt of not living up to the idealized moniker of Winchester, never feel like he fit with his Mom or Dad’s version of what it meant.  But hearing all Dean had said, knowing he believed it all to his soul, it changed something for Sam.

Maybe it no longer mattered about being a Winchester, maybe all that mattered was being Dean’s.  And Dean had proven time and time again that no matter how low Sam felt about himself or his worth, to Dean he was worth the world.

As Dean’s hands made a pass back down his arms Sam caught his hands in his own. 

“Okay.” 

Dean had been looking down at where their hands were joined together.  His head shot up to look Sam in the eye.

“Yeah?” Dean whispered.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered back.

Dean pushed Sam’s body back up against the tree this time using the length of his own torso pressed against him to keep him there.

He brushed both his hands through Sam’s hair, pushing it back out of his face and kissed him.  It was just a whisper of lips against one another, but it felt like the world tilted for both of them. 

Sam ran his hands up Dean’s spine and that cause Dean to press against him harder and turn the faint brush of lips into a full blown kiss.

They froze in place as they heard the front door to the cabin they were directly behind open and someone walk out onto the small little porch attached to the front. 

Dean took a step back away from Sam and swiveled to face the cabin.  Sam side stepped around him but brushed his right hand down Dean’s back in one final longing stroke.

Dean frowned in Sam’s direction but Sam just gave him the brightest smile and said “Thanks.”

Dean’s frown changed into confusion.

“Thanks for steering me back to clear, for making me see what is important.”

He whispered the rest as he walked by, “That will forever and always be you in case you were wondering.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile matching Sam’s and as he sauntered forward next to Sam he said “About damned time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the drought is over. I am already well on my way through the next chapter so that should be up soon. I can't say thank you enough for all the kudos and comments. You guys make all the struggling worth it!!! I appreciate you all so much!!
> 
> Sorry for all the angsty emotions in Chapter 11 & 12\. That seems to be all the boys will give me right now. I am hoping for more smut soon so...


	13. Dead or Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape from a black site is never easy. Paying the price to a Reaper is even harder. Somehow the Winchesters managed to once again prevail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd as always. I hope you like this chapter. I am pretty sure (at least hoping) the next one will be nothing but smut.

Dean was so proud of how Sam had once again stood and faced Lucifer.  He had knocked his essence right out of the President’s body.  But they had no time to celebrate as the Secret Service came busting through the door. They were loaded into an armored vehicle as if they were terrorists.  No thanks for saving the leader of the free world.

Dean did his best to exude strength for Sam as his brother once again looked at him with fear and uncertainty radiating off of him. Seeing his brother in chains like that sparked all kinds of impotent anger. Sam’s left foot kept tapping and that drove spikes of frustration up Dean’s spine.  All he wanted was to soothe his brother, to tell him it was all going to be okay.  But Dean had no clue how they were going to get out of this one.

When they were walked down the hall side by side to the cells, Dean tried to hold it together.  The brothers took one last look at each other before walking into their cells.  It added insult to injury that they weren’t even put in cells side by side, but separated by a cell in between.

Sam spent his days remembering each touch he had shared with Dean.  He relived each moment of ecstasy Dean had given him and every rapturous kiss and caress they had shared in the short time they had been lovers.  He thought back to when they were younger and the longing and desire that had been a constant companion throughout Sam’s time of puberty and adulthood.  Instead of causing him sadness, it made him even more thankful for the time that they had shared recently as they were always meant to be.  He also tried to stay busy.  He focused on keeping his body strong which helped keep his mind sharp.  There would be a slip, a misstep by the guards, there had to be.  He would be ready whenever it came.

Dean on the other hand didn’t fare so well.  As each day apart from his brother dragged, and each mark was made on the wall of his cell to commemorate its passing, Dean became weaker and weaker.  He longed to see Sam and touch him and hunt something, anything.  Being cooped up in this cell wore at his soul, made it fade a little with each passing moment. He knew he was in trouble when he began sleeping more than he was awake. He could feel himself giving up, giving in to the despair and he couldn’t allow that to happen.  Not as long as Sam was alive, he had to find a way out, for both of them.

When he came up with the plan, he knew there would be a price, but he wasn’t sure what that would be until Billie said a Winchester had to die at midnight for real, no get out of jail free cards this time.  Dean could handle that.  As much as he didn’t want to leave Sam behind, their mom was back now and would surely be there for Sam if Dean was gone.  Dean couldn’t handle being in the isolation any longer.  Better dead than going through the hell of solitary for the rest of his life.  He knew Sam would try to make the sacrifice, but he wouldn’t let that happen.  He couldn’t live if Sam were gone so he might as well be the one to die so that Sam could go on.

Having just been dead made Dean doubt everything when he woke up on the metal table in the morgue.  Everything felt a little off, but looking around and seeing Sam there alive behind him, real and in the same room after two months, it was the best sight in Dean’s life.

He wanted to take the time to run his hands all over Sam, to make sure he was intact and safe.  But neither of them would be safe as long as they were still trapped wherever this was that they were being held.  Being out of the cells was a huge win, but the battle to freedom was far from over.

As they made their way outside and got their bearings with the map from the truck, all Dean wanted to do was stop and envelop Sam in his arms.  Every inch of his skin ached to feel him close.  Especially since this would be their last day together, perhaps ever, given how Billie promised they would end up in the void this time.  But he couldn’t think about that.  He couldn’t think about anything except getting Sam to safety.

As usual, Sam wanted to “talk” about the deal they had made.  But Dean wasn’t ready for that.  He couldn’t face that fight until they were far away from here.

Sam could think of nothing but midnight.  He hadn’t wanted to take Billie’s deal.  But when she described how desperate Dean was to get out.  How bleak he had looked.  Sam couldn’t deny his brother freedom.  Not for any price.  He only hoped their mom would step up and be a real presence in Dean’s life once Sam died tonight.  He knew Dean would fight him, but Sam had been on borrowed time ever since the trials.  He thought he had made peace with the idea of his dying.  He had, at least before their first kiss.  After that, his world had grown color and texture he had never known.  He had more reason to fight and live than he had ever thought possible.  But if his death brought a chance at life for Dean, free from that cell.  He considered it a bargain well made.

They moved as one through the woods.  The brothers stood patiently waiting for their prey as they had thousands of times in hunts of the past.   Their shoulders touching was the only concession they would grant the desperation of their bodies longing for one another.   It was just a matter of time before an agent split off from the pack to allow them to take him out individually.

Making plans for attack and diversions felt like any other hunt, yet there was a thrum of urgency, of finality that pulled taught between them.  They were both dreading midnight, shuddering at the idea of having to say goodbye.  Each one trying to focus on individual tasks at hand as they came, instead of letting their minds and hearts open to the inevitability of what was to come.

After disabling the first agent to come along, Sam stood point, watching for any advancing agents as Dean spoke to the guy in charge on the walkie.  “Well what we have here is a failure to communicate.” Dean began sarcastically.  The quote from the movie _Cool Hand Luke_ sparked something low in Sam’s belly.  How many times had they watched that classic on old TVs, sharing space on a twin bed in motels together, growing up?  It made his heart cinch and his body tighten to hear the surety in Dean’s voice.  The threats he made, others would take as bravado, but Sam knew them to be fact.

Dean’s belief in their abilities, his never ending faith that they would always ‘find a way’ through something no matter how daunting, as long as they were together poured out in every syllable.  It shattered something deep inside Sam to think he would never hear that again after tonight.  But at the same time, the thought that somehow Dean would keep going even after Sam was gone drove him forward.  That might not have been true before their mom came back. With Sam dead, Dean might have given up.  But Sam had to believe that Dean wouldn’t abandon her now.  The thought that Dean would go on made it easier for Sam to keep moving.

Once they found the cabin, the boys moved with precision through the setup and preparation to ambush the Secret Service and the military backup they would bring. Keeping busy made every moment that ticked away, easier to let go in spite of the impending deadline.  There was nothing either of them could do to change the outcome so they just kept working towards the goal of neutralizing the enemy and making their escape.

Both brothers were painfully aware that the ache in his heart was matched by that of the other.  Each glance by Sam and each gaze in return by Dean meant so much but left so much more unsaid.

Before Dean could exit the cabin to take his place outside, Sam grabbed him by the arm. “About Billie,” but managed nothing more as Dean grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him into a kiss that was a lifetime in the making and they both felt it as the goodbye that it was.

Dean pulled back from the kiss to catch his breath but he kept his forehead touching Sam’s.  They stood there for only a moment before Dean abruptly turned and walked out the door.  Sam heard a twig snap loudly outside from the opposite direction and quickly took up residence under the floorboard of the old house.

They dispatched the threats with relative ease, in spite of two months of limited movement and inactivity.  The soldiers and agents were tame in comparison to most things they had fought in the past. 

As Sam once more thought about how to bring up discussing what was coming at midnight, they stumbled into a small clearing where Cass and Mary were miraculously waiting.  The shock of finding them, and the unwelcome surprise that the Brits were involved, did nothing to slow down the brothers’ need to get distance from the area before the deadline.  If anything, the need to be away from the British Men of Letters before the reaper came had Sam pushing to leave the area immediately.

There was a strained awkwardness in the car as Mary drove towards home.  They made attempts at small talk and catch up stories until the car abruptly died.  Dean and Sam got out of the car as fear, dread, sadness and acceptance washed over them both. They stood side by side facing the reaper as they had hundreds of adversaries before her. 

If Sam had had any remaining doubts what came out of his brother after Mary asked why they would agree to Billie’s conditions put an end to them. His voice was so quiet, had almost a numbness to it, but despair at the memories flowed out from deep within Dean while he explained.

“We were already dead. Being locked in that cell, with nothing, I’ve been to hell, this was worse.” The gruff whisper of it, the broken quality to Dean’s slumped shoulders, it solidified in Sam his belief that he would die a thousand deaths, cast himself into the Pit with Lucifer again, run straight into the void Billie was offering, just to keep that mangled anguish from swallowing Dean entirely.

When Billie asked which of them it would be, Sam and Dean took a simultaneous breath to put into words why it was he that had to die for the betterment of his brother.  But in the one heartbeat that they were trying to form the best argument, Mary beat them to the punch.  As much as neither Sam nor Dean wanted the other to die, they both vehemently opposed Mary’s desire to take their place.  Before they could make a move to stop Mary, Billie drove them both to the ground with a small wave of her hand.  They fought against invisible bindings, struggling like bugs on their backs, as they watched with horror as the mother they had lost thirty three years earlier put the gun to her head to sacrifice herself for them.

The light from the angel blade piercing Billie’s solar plexus blinded everyone temporarily.  The boys stood as soon as the invisible force holding them abated.  Shock, fear, and awe at what Cass had done for them kept them silent as he explained why he couldn’t let any of them die. 

They drove back to the bunker in near silence.  They ate fast food they picked up along the way, but it did little to take away from the heaviness they all felt.  None of them knew what the “cosmic consequences” would be to what Castiel had done for the brothers.  He seemed unfazed by it at all.  Dean was pissed at him, but at the moment couldn’t be bothered to focus on that.

All Dean could think about was Sam.  It had been two months he was unable to touch him.  He had held himself back from thinking about a possibility that they would ever be together again.  Now he couldn’t believe that they were about to be home.  The thought of it made it hard to focus on anything else.  He was exhausted and he knew Sam had to be also, but he had to find a way to put his hands on his brother.  He didn’t have a clue how he would manage it with his Mom and Cass around but damn it, he would find a way.

His mom turned out to not be a problem.  She dropped them off at the bunker with a solid hug and ‘I’ll see you soon.’  To have his mom turn her back on them after what they had just been through would normally have churned Dean’s insides into a mass of angry snakes, but he was thrilled at the turn of events.  Now all that stood between him and getting his fix from the Sammy high he was jonesing for was the pesky angel.

“I know you both must be exhausted after what you have been through.  While you sleep I am going to resume my search for Kelly Kline.” Castiel’s deadpan delivery of the solution to Dean’s problem stunned him momentarily.

Before Dean could chime in with a response, Sam jumped in with a “Hey Cass that’s great buddy.  Thanks again for saving us and making the hard calls you did with Billie and the British Men of Letters.”  Sam wouldn’t look at Dean as he continued.

“I’m sure we’ll both need lots of rest and recuperation for the next couple of days so don’t worry ‘bout us.  Just do what you need to do to find her and we’ll help as soon as we have recovered.”

Dean had been gruff with Cass the rest of the drive home ever since the angel had killed Billie so it didn’t seem out of character when he stated abruptly “Keep the noise down and try to stay in the map room and library okay Cass? Otherwise your tromping around will keep me awake.”

Dean’s order for the angel made it clear to Sam that they were on the same page.  He could barely hide the grin on his face as Cass said in all seriousness, “I understand, I will endeavor not to disturb either of you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has given me kudos and comments. I cannot tell you how much your support (and patience) has meant to me. It is hard to describe what an amazing journey writing this fic has been for me. I think I am in love with the show even more now (didn't think that was humanly possible) that I am actually writing this fanfic.
> 
> This chapter was sort of cathartic to me. As I had described in previous notes, the boys stopped talking to me and I was so blocked and struggling to write more. It was like I needed to escape from the cells with the boys to break out of my writers block. I am hopeful it will be smoother sailing from now on. Here's hoping at least...


	14. Returning Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleaning up after a long hard day of being dead, taking on the Secret Service and watching a Reaper die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copious amounts of smut to be had in this chapter. Basically that is all this chapter is, smut with a little emotional frosting to finish off with a smile.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Please be sure to point out anything that is glaring so I can try to make it better.

In spite of the eager desire rolling through both men, as they walked down the wide hallway towards the bedrooms, they were quiet.  It was suddenly as if the familiarity they had been building with each others’ bodies had dissipated in the long dark time apart.  Sam swallowed around nerves and apprehension.  Dean looked down at the worn pattern of the floor under his feet as he walked. 

Sam cleared his throat before asking “So what now?”

No one else would have heard the barest of trembles to his voice.  Dean of course did, but his own fear made it read as reluctance. “Nothing you don’t want, Sam.”

Dean meant it.  He wanted Sam with every fiber of his being, but if Sam decided that was never happening again, he would find a way to live with that.  Hours earlier he believed he would never get a chance to see the sun rise with his brother by his side.  Having him here, in their home, he could be happy forever with just this.

“I want everything Dean.” 

A relieved sigh escaped from Dean’s lips unwarranted at his brother’s admission.

“God, Sammy, me too.”

“But I need a shower before I let you anywhere near me.” Sam managed as Dean pushed him hard against the hallway wall, stopping Dean’s progress.

“Ugh Samantha, you are so high maintenance.” Dean groused, his lips turning up into a smile belying his annoyance.

“What if you joined me in the shower? Would that make it better?” Sam tried for innocence, but couldn’t keep the teasing tone from his voice.  He watched Dean’s face as the idea took root in his brother’s mind.

“Sam, that might be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Dean insisted they make a pit stop by his room before resuming their journey to the shower.  He quickly grabbed a silicon based lube out of his drawer that he had gotten secretly on a food run and stowed away for just such an occasion. 

The “I’m getting a special present” little boy at Christmas look that Dean had when he turned around and faced Sam lit Sam’s face up in response.

He couldn’t believe he was getting to see Dean happy again.  It was a look he had feared he would die without getting to see one last time.  That seemed so far in the distance now, even though it was only a few hours ago.  Relief and joy flooded through Sam and he grabbed Dean’s free hand to hold as they finished the short walk to the showers.

“Wow Samantha, you are laying the girlfriend experience on thick tonight.” Dean said in response.

Instead of any of the snarky responses Sam would usually follow up with, he bent his neck and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder as they walked side by side.  This made Dean snort in laughter. 

Sam nuzzled his nose against Dean’s ear and whispered “You don’t seem to mind what I’m like when you are coming inside me.”

Dean choked and squeezed Sam’s hand as intense desire ripped through his body at the unexpected words.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean turned quickly to grab at Sam in order to have his way with him in spite of Sam’s earlier protest about cleanliness.

But Sam had expected that kind of response and sidestepped away from Dean as soon as he had let go of his hand to grab him.

Sam was in the shower room with the water turned on and was halfway stripped out of the prison jumpsuit before Dean’s epic hard on had calmed down enough to allow his body to catch up to Sam.  He grabbed the portable showerhead off the holder and intended to aim it at Dean if he came closer before Sam could at least get one layer of grime washed off himself.

“Go ahead and clean up, princess.”  Dean said in mock distain.  “I’ll join you in a second and then there’ll be no more running.”  The change in Dean’s voice and the threat that it boded, sent chills up Sam’s spine. Sam watched Dean lick his lips as a follow up to what he had said.  He swallowed hard and Dean’s eyes followed the movement of his Adam’s apple greedily. 

Sam found it harder to make his hands move than it had been before Dean had come into the room.  He fumbled to get the remaining clothing off, almost tripping on the leg of it having to jump on one foot to keep his balance.  A dark baritone chuckle made him blush and look up through the curtain of his hair to see Dean bare-chested having no trouble quickly and efficiently removing his prison grey.

Sam’s breath caught again at the sight of his brother’s chest.  He watched as it rose and fell with his breathing and effort to strip.  Sam was so hard it was painful.  His teasing had backfired.  He needed Dean in the worst way.

He stepped under the warm spray where he had repositioned the showerhead to accommodate his height.  It felt amazing and pounded through the stress and tension he had held in his shoulders the entire time they had been escaping.  It would have been heaven to stand under the spray and relax the grime away but his need hung heavy between his legs and made him want to wash himself clean in record time.

Once Dean was completely naked he stalked towards Sam like the predator he was. His eyes focused hungrily, taking in the long muscles all over Sam’s tall body.  It made Sam blush again in spite of his rush to get clean. Sam eagerly stepped to the side as far as he could to accommodate both of them under the spray.   Evidently Dean had different ideas about the matter because at the last minute, Dean turned away from Sam, stepping towards the next available shower head instead.

Dean turned on his own stream in the space next to Sam’s in the open designed shower room.  Dean began washing himself with efficient grace, but never stopped watching the show that was Sam running a cloth over his amazing body. After a few moments Sam realized he had been washing the same area over and over, making no real progress, while being mesmerized by watching Dean work the dirt free from his own body. Sam blinked a couple of times trying to clear his head and pull his focus back to the task at hand.  The quicker he cleaned completely the faster he could beg Dean to fuck him.

Dean growled “Stop.” And Sam instantly obeyed.  His hands freezing in mid motion from where they were soaping his body.  His breathing amped into a rapid pant at the way Dean’s eyes had darkened, feasting over Sam’s body once more.  Dean turned off his own jet and moved lithely into Sam’s space crowding him back against the slick wall.

Dean took the soapy cloth from him and began massaging him with it.  Sam moaned with pleasure at the feel of the strength in Dean’s hand behind the cloth. His other hand followed in the soapy wake massaging the tension from each sore muscle in Sam’s body. With Sam backed against the wall the warm spray was hitting Dean full in the chest and bouncing back and hitting Sam’s body without getting in either of their faces. 

Dean pulled Sam forward towards him away from the wall and turned his body so that he was standing at a 45 degree angle from where he had started.  Dean was now behind him and began working on his back muscles with the cloth and the massage of his free hand following in its path.  The water was hitting Sam in the shoulder so it kept his body wet without drowning Dean as he slowly worked farther down Sam’s body. 

He skipped Sam’s ass and went straight to massaging down his left leg, wrapping his hands around his thigh and working out every bit of tension in the limb as he went.  He took his time and when he reached his left ankle he moved to the other one going in reverse back up his right leg.  Dean worked his magic until he was standing up straight again behind Sam.  Sam expected him to give the wash cloth over so that Sam could finish the job and they could get to more important issues, but again Dean surprised him.

He began using the cloth over Sam’s ass. Making his way across first one cheek, then the other, with powerful motions, grinding his strong fingers deep into the tissue and muscle underneath.  Sam had never felt anything like it.  He was lost in the feeling and blissed out. It wasn’t sexual and the ache in his cock had lessened somewhat from the different kind of pleasure he had lost himself in. 

Dean ran the soapy cloth over his own empty hand several times in the process of working at Sam’s cheeks.  When he deemed it soapy enough, he sidestepped to put his body at an angle under the showerhead so that the front of his own body was pressed against the entire length of Sam’s left side.

Sam’s eyes popped open and his dick regained the full force of his desire when he felt the hard length of Dean’s erection pressed against his hip.  Sam moved to do something about it, but Dean whispered in his ear “Be still.”

Blood pumped even harder into Sam’s cock, enough to make it jump in place at the quiet yet forceful command.

Dean wrapped his soapy hand around Sam’s shaft while slipping the soapy cloth between his cheeks.  Dean worked both areas vigorously making Sam moan and lean his weight harder against Dean from the side.

Dean watched his hand pump Sam’s length and then he twisted his wrist when he reached the end earning a groan from his brother as Sam dropped his head back in pleasure. He then switched his gaze to where his other hand was working the cloth up and down Sam’s ass crack, cleaning him thoroughly and circling around his hole until Sam let his head fall back the other way with another moan.

Dean dropped the washcloth out of the way on the floor and turned Sam til his back was towards Dean and the spraying water.  He rinsed Sam’s ass, holding his cheeks open enough for the warm water to flow down his crack and over his hole.

He turned Sam around and grabbed the lube off the shared soap shelf, between the two shower spaces, where he had surreptitiously hidden it behind Sam’s soap when he had grabbed his own soap earlier.

He placed the open tip between Sam’s cheeks and squeezed a copious amount down his crack.  He then used it to lube up his own fingers on his right hand as he began stroking Sam’s soapy cock again with his left.  Sam felt overwhelmed and stimulated to the point of extreme with what Dean was doing.  He had to fight not to come when Dean’s first finger forced its way inside him.  It had been so long and he wanted Dean so much. 

He tried to focus on his breathing but when Dean noticed what he was doing he added a second slicked up finger all the way to the knuckle and increased his speed and grip strength on his cock.  Dean wanted him to lose control.  Dean was lost in the pleasure of touching Sam in this combined way.  He could watch both sides of his beloved from this angle and it was so intense.  He worked Sam open mercilessly adding a third finger and finding just the right angle to repeatedly hit his prostate. 

Sam fought back his orgasm with every fiber of his being.  He didn’t want this to end.  He didn’t know why this was so intense, maybe the time apart or maybe because he had thought he might never see his brother again after midnight.  Somehow he felt enveloped by Dean, owned by him and used by him in a way he hadn’t before.  Like he was trapped and held by Dean’s very essence. 

Sam was panting non-stop now.  Swallowing hard around each moan and ‘oh oh’ that left his lips.  His hips were giving little jerks into Dean’s hand.  He was fighting hard not to fuck full force into his hand because he knew that wasn’t what Dean wanted, but oh it was so hard. 

Dean was enraptured by the sight of him.  He could feel the struggle.  Feel Sam’s desire to please him more than find pleasure for himself.  He felt connected to Sam so deeply as if having him from both sides like this was closing some kind of circuit.  It was more intense than he could have dreamed a simple hand job could ever be.  But nothing was ever simple with Sam.  Every touch was more intense, and the fact that he had nearly lost him, lost the potential for this, was something he couldn’t dream of letting happen ever again.  He began rubbing his own hard length against Sam’s hips and that was all it took for Sam to spill over his hand with a harsh bark of sound ripped from his chest.

The wet heat of his hole began throbbing and contracting around Dean’s fingers and he took Sam to the floor gently but firmly stopping his collapse and moving him to his hands and knees. Sam came out of his foggy state enough to realize what Dean wanted.  It made his hips pulse forward in response and his dick try to empty a little more out onto the tile beneath them.  He spread weak wobbly legs and propped himself up on his elbows because he couldn’t manage to stay up on his hands. He let his forehead fall heavily to rest across his stacked forearms, keeping his brow off the wet floor. That move canted his hips even higher, and spread his thighs even further apart.

This made Dean growl from deep within his throat.  The sight of Sammy presenting himself like that, it caused a hunger from the depths of Dean to come roiling out.  It reminded him of how the need to kill would climb up his spine from the Mark, but this was not that. This was an insatiable craving for Sammy, to own him, to possess him, to make him completely his once more. 

Dean lubed his dick up and settled himself behind Sam.  The spray of the shower was pelting unnoticed hot against his spine.  He pushed into Sam and they both moaned in unison.  He didn’t stop to allow for acceptance or for Sam to have time to get used to being full.  He withdrew almost to the point of losing contact and then rammed hard into Sam again.  Sam groaned and panted and pushed back into him forming a ravenous cyclical rhythm against one another.

They had been starving for each other.  They had been desperate and their souls were crying out to be merged in this way, now and forever.

Sam began a rasping ragged keening that was hard for Dean to recognize as words at first.  “Yes, yes, yes, more, more, more, please, please, please” cycled in and out of clarity. Finally it devolved into an animalistic ‘Dean, Dean, Dean’ that wracked the base of Dean’s spine with a terrible need.  The mantra began to be matched with a low bass grunting snarl that Dean failed to recognize as coming from inside himself at first.  He reached beneath Sam to find him, as he had hoped, hard again.

He began stroking him urgently and that caused Sam to raise up onto his hands to gain the leverage to be able to thrust back against Dean harder, more viciously driving himself open with manic desire.

Dean changed his own angle as he draped his torso over Sam’s slick back, grasping at his waist with his free hand for more control.  He began biting along Sam’s back and shoulders with an ever increasing ferocity.  He worked up to the base of his neck and clamped down hard earning a howl from Sam who bucked up against Dean’s torso as he spasmed in orgasm for a second time.

His constrictions and thrumming around Dean’s dick pushed him over the edge but Dean was in such a primal place he couldn’t stop driving himself into Sam.  He finally stopped when he had absolutely nothing more to pump into Sam, slipping out as he pulled back one last time.  Sam whimpered at the loss in spite of being so full of what Dean left inside of him that it was spilling out beautifully, making Dean’s balls ache when he saw it.

Dean found the strength to somehow stand up and pull Sam backwards and up with him.  He rinsed them both off while holding Sam’s mostly limp body against him, then turned off the shower. 

He walked them together to the towel area choosing the biggest fluffiest one they owned to wrap Sam up in to keep him warm while he used another to buff him dry.  He sat Sam down on a stool next to the towel closet, making sure he was propped safely back against the wall so he wouldn’t fall from exhaustion. 

He did the minimal amount necessary to dry himself as quickly as possible. He wrapped his arm tightly around Sam’s waist and began to walk him back down the hall towards Sam’s room.  His bed wasn’t the most comfortable, having no memory foam, but Dean would have slept on the floor and been happy about it if it meant getting to have his arms around Sam as he slept.  Even Sam’s inadequate mattress felt like heaven when Dean pulled him down with him into it after two months of sleeping on the prison cot with his heart aching for his brother.

Sam couldn’t remember a time when he slept well without Dean at least in the same room.  But it had been nearly impossible to sleep in the prison even though Dean was only a matter of feet away, he had felt like he was in another galaxy.  Sam was so exhausted, not only from the pounding he had just gladly endured, but from the long day of dying, running and fearing true death at the hands of the reaper, never to see his brother again. 

To have him to snuggle against, to get to lay his head in the spot on Dean’s muscular shoulder just below his jaw, to feel Dean’s strong arms wrap around him and his hand playing in his hair, it made Sam feel more complete than he had ever felt.  Even more so than the first time they had had sex.  This had been different.  This had been a consummation in the most primal sense of the word.  He felt that he had lost his own self into the joining with Dean somehow and didn’t think he would ever feel truly just himself again.  He felt that somehow he would now always carry a piece of Dean with him.

Dean whispered into his hair, “You’re mine baby boy.”

Sam felt it stir something in his heart that made him sure Dean was feeling the same thing Sam had been the instant before he spoke.  He looked up into Dean’s eyes.  They were sparkling in the amber light of the mica shaded lamp on Sam’s small beside table.

A smile played across his lips and he moved to kiss Sam’s forehead. Sam changed his angle and went in for a kiss.  He pushed his tongue into Dean’s mouth with ownership and possession, with a surety that it was his to do with as he pleased. He rolled himself up onto Dean and took his mouth again with his own.  It was deep but it wasn’t exactly passionate.  They were both much too spent to have it turn in that direction, but there was a powerful quality to it.

It felt like a joining of a different type.  It felt like they were sharing a multitude of things with each other, relief, happiness, surety of place, complete acceptance of the other, beyond love, beyond desire, just righteousness.  The kissing deepened but slowed, becoming languid with less purpose until stopping altogether.

Sam remained on top of Dean but moved his head to snuggle again under his chin. Dean spread his legs wider to accommodate his brother’s weight.  Dean’s hands moved slowly up and down Sam’s spine. 

Dean had never shared an intimacy this intense with any of his partners.  His soul felt endless with the depth of love flowing between them, more than he could have ever imagined.  He sensed something significant was happening between them, besides the obvious. 

The words Billie had used, “consequences on a cosmic scale,” echoed through his mind.  But this time it didn’t instill fear the way it had when he realized what Cass had done.  Now he felt like he was somehow more a part of Sam instead of just himself.  There was a tickling in his brain that seemed to be trying to tell him something. Somehow there was a truth to the connection thrumming between them that whispered of more significance than ever before.  He was too tired to ruminate long.  His body couldn’t sustain the track his mind was trying to take him down.

He kissed the top of his brother’s head again and as Sam sighed and melted further into relaxation, they both fell over the edge into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really cannot thank you all enough for the kudos and support. This chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I expected so I hope the sex isn't too tedious :) 
> 
> Comments, questions and concerns are always welcome.


	15. Watching as Memories Fade Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the hardest chapters of the Winchester brothers' lives happens when Dean is hexed by a witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always this is unbeta'd. So all the mistakes are mine. Please feel free to point them out so I can fix them.
> 
> This episode was one of the hardest I have encountered to write about. It resulted in another bear of a chapter. So much angst. I know that is what the brothers are best at, second only to killing things, but geez this one was hard.

Sam jumped as his phone rang on the table beside him, he prayed to Chuck that it was Dean, finally.  He had been up all night calling Dean’s cell, searching everywhere he could think he might be.  Instead of Dean, the words “Unknown Caller” flashed up at him bursting his hopes.  Fear sprung unbidden. In the instant before answering, his mind ran amuck with thoughts of calls from the police or an emergency room, any kind of notification that Dean had been found but who knew what shape he would be in.

Relief flooded through his frazzled body as soon as he heard Dean’s voice, followed immediately with intense annoyance.  Dean was even more obtuse than usual, saying he didn’t know where he was or what had happened to him, and then happily rambling about waffles and insisting they meet to eat, before promptly hanging up on him. Confusion was all Sam was left with.

On the drive over to the waffle joint, in order to keep the urge to kill Dean himself at bay, Sam had to focus on the feeling of solace he had instantly felt upon learning that Dean was alive, instead of focusing on the rest of it.

Sam tried to keep calm and not over react. But when he walked into the waffle place and saw Dean living it up, finishing a stack of waffles and about to attack a second batch, as if Sam hadn’t been worried all night and searching the entire county with no luck, Sam nearly lost it.  But he didn’t want to make a scene, at least not until he knew what was going on.

He began with a nonchalant “I tried to call you,” but he barely managed to hold back the intensity of his emotions. Sam’s own insecurities were hard to control, and had caused a small part of him to worry that maybe Dean had been avoiding him. At least those fears were placated when Dean waggled his broken phone at him.  But that still didn’t explain why Dean was being so laid back about being out all night. 

They hadn’t really discussed at length what their being together meant, but Sam had just assumed that Dean wouldn’t do this type of thing anymore.  Sam didn’t want to be the kind of partner/lover/whatever that had to know where his mate was every second of the day, and he knew Dean had always needed space and time to blow off steam, but this was truly hurtful.

They had just found each other again after those long dark days in the Colorado Guantanamo and he thought they were good, really good right now. This, how Dean was acting, made no sense. 

The callous indifference with which Dean was treating what he had done was bizarre. He was acting like him getting drunk and blacking out was normal behavior.  It hadn’t been normal behavior for him the last few years, at least not with the regularity it had been when he was in his twenties.  But it was especially not his style since they became lovers.

Sam tried desperately to hide his pain.  Because they hadn’t really discussed any of this or boundaries, or anything you might typically discuss with a partner in a relationship. Sam felt disoriented and out of place with his reaction.  He wasn’t really sure what was appropriate to expect, but he knew this wasn’t it.

He tried to be reasonable and suggested that maybe Dean should slow down with the drinking due to his age, but Dean just brushed that off.  Dean didn’t even remember what they were supposed to be doing with the case and the thought of him still being drunk really annoyed Sam.  It was like his heart couldn’t decide whether to be broken, pissed, confused or all of the above.

He decided to just focus on the case.  Just keep his emotions out of it until Dean was fully recovered from the alcohol evidently still flooding his system.  He couldn’t have a rational discussion about relationship needs and expectations with him this way.

As the young woman approached and said hi to Dean and Dean turned to Sam and gave him one of his “I’m about to get lucky” grins, Sam was floored. But the slap made him lose his mind.  No woman would act like that unless Dean’s not remembering her was significantly unexpected, as in ‘they slept together and now he didn’t remember her’ unexpected.

He barely held himself in check until he got his door closed in the car.  “What the hell, Dean?”

“Whaddya mean Sam?”

Sam put the full force of his bewildered anger into the look he gave him. 

“Oh you mean the girl?”

“Uh yeah, Dean, I mean the girl.”  Sam tried to regain his composure.  “Did you sleep with her?”

“Dude.” Dean looked confused.  “I told you I don’t remember, but it must have been one helluva night. As I said, epic.”  He wiggled his eyebrows in Sam’s direction again.

“Dean, I don’t understand why you’re being this way?”

“Come on Sam, this isn’t the first girl that I have pissed off because I was too drunk to remember her.”  Dean chuckled with glee.

“Yeah Dean, but it is the first time you’ve slept with anyone since sleeping with me.”

Dean’s face went blank, then faded a ghostly pale, making his freckles stand out starkly.  They were together.  He had forgotten somehow that they were together.  What the hell was in the drinks from last night?  How could he have forgotten that they were together?  Sam was the love of his life, his soul mate, his reason for existence.  What the fuck happened to him that he had let that slip away?  Dean swallowed hard and tried to keep his panic from showing. 

“Come on Sammy, you know I didn’t sleep with her.  I couldn’t have, I love you too much to cheat on you.  She probably just hit on me and thought she made an impression, but obviously she didn’t, so when I didn’t remember her she slugged me one.”  He said it too fast and knew it sounded lame even to his ears but he couldn’t believe he would cheat on Sam.  No way would he have done that, no matter how drunk he got. But come to think of it, why was he even out drinking without Sam?  He had no desire to go out to bars anymore if it meant being away from Sam.  This made no sense.

“Yeah sure Dean.”  Annoyance poured out of Sam as he huffed, “Whatever you say.”

They had pulled up to the morgue by that time so they both decided silently to themselves just to focus on the case until they were better equipped to deal with what just happened.

While looking at the body, and searching the evidence bags, Sam kept repeating to himself, _just focus on the facts of the case_.  It wasn’t easy.  He didn’t know what to believe about last night.  He felt off kilter with how to even begin to think about his feelings right now, they were in turmoil and he was so confused and hurt.  So he just kept sifting through the evidence trying to ignore Dean’s bizarre behavior. 

Finding a hex bag in the evidence box filled Sam with a small sense of hope.  Witches.  That had to be the key, not only to the case, but maybe even to Dean’s actions and confusion.

Dean’s getting in the car and not remembering which key to start Baby began to make Sam feel intensely concerned.  Then when Dean drove forward into the newspaper stands, he was so shocked he angrily tried to get Dean to see how messed up he was. But when Dean looked at him directly in his eyes and asked “Who’s Dean,” a wash of black dread engulfed Sam’s system.

Dean tried to play it off and convince Sam he was fine.  He tried to blow it off just like he did with anything that made him uncomfortable.  Once it was obvious that he must have been hexed, Sam couldn’t decide whether he was overjoyed or petrified.  On the one hand it meant that Dean didn’t do anything the night before because he wanted to, it was because he had been cursed. But now Sam had to find out just how serious this spell was and find a way to reverse it. He couldn’t believe he was going to trust her again, but he needed Rowena’s help.

Rowena explained that all he had to do was kill the witch to release Dean from the spell.  That was the best news Sam had heard all day.  Unfortunately it was immediately ruined as he turned around and realized Dean had left the room while he had been distracted by the call.  Adrenaline pumped through his system and gave his emotions whiplash. His heart began to race faster with panic setting in as he couldn’t find Dean anywhere outside either. When he finally saw Dean trying to get into the wrong room on the second floor of the motel he felt a small reprieve from the rollercoaster of emotions he was going through.  At least Dean was alive and there in front of him.  He just couldn’t let him out of his sight in this altered state again.

They had to find the witch.  That was priority one.  Retracing Dean’s steps from the night before started back in the office of the victim, but failed to provide much direction for them to follow.  They finally struck information gold when they found the bar where Dean had ordered burgers.  Unfortunately the only way they realized they were in the right place was seeing the woman from the slapping incident earlier.  She was a waitress at the bar and was able to fill in some of the gaps, but each bit of information she provided made Sam increasingly sick to his stomach.  The fact that Dean was back to semi flirting with her and not remembering that they were together was even worse.  Sam kept trying to maintain his cool, but when Dean said ‘first action in I don’t know how long and it’s like it never even happened, figures.” Sam had to make fun of it in order to keep himself from bursting into tears.

Luckily the bar had video surveillance and Sam recognized the witch as someone who was in the victim’s pictures in his office. As painful as the idea was that Dean had slept with the waitress, when Dean couldn’t even remember that he knew how to shoot a gun, Sam realized he couldn’t hold any of what occurred the night before or even the flirting just a few minutes earlier against Dean.  It broke his heart but Dean wasn’t Dean when it had happened. He had to forgive it and move on if he was to have any chance to get Dean out of this jam.

They went out behind the bar and found indications, from the angle at which Dean had shot at the guy, which way he had run off. They followed the path out into the woods nearby. 

Dean’s memory loss seemed to be getting progressively worse.  Sam spent the time they were tracking the witch’s movements through the woods having to explain their hunting history and giving a quick encyclopedic rundown on monsters and how they were killed. Basically he gave him ‘the talk’ that they always gave civilians who had seen too much.

They got more clues as to what was done to Dean when they stumbled upon a tree with glyphs etched on it in blood.  Sam quickly snapped pictures of the symbols to send to Rowena but before he could get that done, Dean called him over in an excited whisper.  Laid out against a fallen log was the witch they were searching for. Sam’s heart plunged into his stomach.  In spite of Dean’s glee at seeing the dead man, Sam knew that it was very bad news.  If the witch was dead and the hex was still in full force, it was more complicated than Rowena had first believed.  They needed more answers and fast.

By the time they made it back to the motel Dean didn’t even recognize the picture of the dead witch he had just found not even half an hour prior.  The hex fallout seemed to be speeding up at an ever more disturbing rate.

Rowena arrived unexpectedly and even though it was annoying to have her involved she seemed to know what she was talking about and actually knew the witch family that the spell had come from. Her news about how long Dean had, and how quickly the curse symptoms would progress until Dean forgot how to breathe and swallow and then would end in death made Sam desperate.  He couldn’t lose Dean.  He wouldn’t allow this Alzheimeresque magic to take Dean from him. Now that Billie had been killed, he had no idea what would happen to either of them if they died.  He couldn’t take that kind of chance, not now especially.  Whatever it took, he had to stop this spell from ending his brother.

Sam took Dean into the bathroom for some privacy.  He explained their lives together, all their history in a nutshell, and then explained the curse, what was happening to Dean and what the ultimate end to it would be if they didn’t manage to stop it.  It hurt Sam to see Dean this way, to hear the despair in his voice as he explained that even though Sam had just informed him of his entire life story, he could feel that information slipping out of his head as they spoke. 

Sam had to fight back tears.  He couldn’t allow Dean to see him scared and hurting.  He had to be strong for his brother, now more than ever before.  He had to assure him that he would find a way to save him.  Those words, pierced into Sam’s soul.  He had said them when Dean sold his soul ten years earlier and he had failed.  Three years ago he had assured Dean he would cure the Mark, but before he could find a solution, Metatron had killed Dean, resulting in him turning into a demon.  He had failed his brother so many times in the past.  His heart seized and his breath caught in his throat.  Sam could not fail him this time.

Sam’s voice was hoarse and he could barely speak as he promised “We’ll figure it out, alright? We will.”  He couldn’t control his emotions any longer so he got up and left the bathroom.  He turned all that dread and sadness into anger against Rowena.  That felt so much easier, so much safer to rail against her than to face his own despair at seeing Dean slip away from him.

He accused her of not caring.  But he couldn’t hold onto his anger.  He explained to her that he had seen Dean die before, but watching him lose the knowledge of himself was actually worse. 

He began to calm down, until listening to her speak about the importance of the grimoire echoed her previous desire to get her hands on the Book of the Damned along with the other witch’s grimoire when working to remove the Mark of Cain.  It was always about building her own power with Rowena. Realizing this helped him find his anger again and focus on her and her tendency towards betrayal and selfish motivations.  His anger was quickly matched by bitter frustration of her own when he informed her she was to stay behind at the hotel with Dean.  She tried to convince Sam that he would need her with him, but he was having none of it.

As they discussed him and fought over the plan out in the main room, Dean focused on not panicking in the bathroom.  He had to try to hold onto his memories as long as he could.  He could fight this.  Sam had told him he had fought much worse than this in the past so surely he could just practice and retain the memories of himself he had now. 

He looked into the mirror and said with confidence “My name is Dean Winchester, Sam is my brother, Mary Winchester is my mom, and Cast…” he got stuck a little on the name, so he just said “Cass, is my best friend.”  There, those were the important things Sam had told him.  He would just practice saying them over and over.  He could do this.

He started again, “My name is Dean Winchester.” That was as far as he made it.  So he started over, “My name is… my name is…” he took a beat trying to give himself a second to gather the information. 

“My… my…” Tears welled up as he searched the mirror and the face of the unknown stranger staring back at him through horror stricken eyes. His chest constricted and his breathing became ragged.  He bit and chewed at his quivering lip as he confessed in a panicked whisper, “I don’t know…”

Sam hadn’t said goodbye.  He couldn’t face Dean again right now.  If he did he thought he would lose it and that wouldn’t do either of them any good.  He drove Baby hard, foot all the way to the floor, to get him to the witches’ home as quickly as possible.

The only good thing about what Dean was going through was that after he left the bathroom and began talking with Rowena, he no longer felt upset and no longer realized what he had lost.  He didn’t really know how to feel when she told him he was a killer.  He was confused and didn’t remember being a killer.  He didn’t think he must have been a very good person if he killed as many people as she said.  Then he became more and more confused when she told him she had met God and His Sister.  But his emotions quickly shifted again as those memories faded almost immediately.

The phone rang and he heard Sam’s voice when Rowena put him on speaker.  He remembered Sam.  Dean listened as he explained what was happening and then as Sam moved through the house with the phone in his pocket Dean could hear a strange woman’s voice, taunting his brother.  Instinct made Dean worry, his brow furrowing when he heard what sounded like some kind of crash followed by words in a language he couldn’t understand.

He didn’t know what was happening, and remembered very little about why any of this was going on or where the voice on the other end of the phone was coming from, but at the sound of his brother screaming, his entire body spasmed in fear.  He couldn’t have explained why he had that reaction but every nerve ending caused him to need to move, to save his brother from whatever was happening.

The next thing Dean knew he woke up in the passenger seat of a car he didn’t recognize.  There was a note stuck on the windshield that read “Your brother’s been kidnapped by a witch. Found your stupid car, left you here.”  He didn’t know why, but the words stupid car were almost as upsetting as the ones that said his brother had been kidnapped. He looked around in confusion but every fiber of his being said “move and fix this.” He was stopped temporarily by another note taped to the passenger window with only the word “stay” printed on it.

He wasn’t sure what to do.  The instructions were clear, but he had no idea whom the note was from, nor why he should listen to them for that matter.  Every molecule in his body was churning and screaming out for him to “save his brother,” but he had no idea where he was, how to find his brother nor how to save him once he did.

Sam regained consciousness tied to a chair with two witches arguing about bringing their dead brother back to life.  Luckily for him they heard a loud bang downstairs and the female went to investigate.  That just left him one to have to deal with at the moment.  Even before he let the male witch know he was awake, he began working at untying himself.  The witches must be inexperienced with taking prisoners because the knot work was surprisingly easy to loosen.  He tried what he always tried first, talking the witch out of whatever the plan was.  He needed at least one of the witches alive to reverse the hex on Dean.  He wasn’t particular about which one but the male had seemed the more rational during the argument.  So if he could talk him down that would be the best solution.

However when the male explained that he was planning on swapping out Sam’s soul and implanting his brother’s into Sam’s body, the plan changed to survival first.  He would do Dean no good if he wasn’t himself anymore. 

Back in the car, Dean’s instincts won out over obedience.  Dean knew he was confused, but obedience just didn’t feel like it was his kind of thing.

Opening the trunk and seeing a plethora of weapons made Dean super happy for some reason, almost like a kid at Christmas.  The notes in the car trunk were written by a different hand, someone who seemed to know him better.  Knew him well enough to know that, even though Dean didn’t remember what the big dangerous looking black weapon that had a wide mouth and big cylinder on it was, he would be drawn to it immediately.  The first note had said his brother was kidnapped by witches. Here in the middle of all these weapons was a note that said ‘witch killing bullets’ and even indicated which gun to use them with.  This note person was very helpful.

Dean found his way inside and happened to see what he could only assume was a witch since she had a red headed woman pinned to the wall with an invisible force.  So he did what came naturally to him and put a bullet in her head. 

Sam had worked the rope loose enough around his wrists to free himself but was waiting for just the right opportunity.  When he heard the shot downstairs he leapt at the chance the distraction gave him. Unfortunately the witch was powerful enough to have the advantage and he escaped from the room and ran away from Sam, who quickly gave chase.  The witch halted at the bottom of the first landing upon seeing Dean pointing a gun in his direction.  Sam froze on the stairs when he saw the confusion on Dean’s face and realized he wasn’t clear who the bad guy was.  Pointing to himself Sam quickly said “brother” and then aimed his finger at the other man and said “witch.”

Dean had no idea why but he trusted the giant sized man on the stairs and shot the closer man without hesitation.  Dean wasn’t sure what all this was about but he felt elated as soon as the big man on the stairs seemed relieved.

Rowena took Dean upstairs to reverse the spell.  Sam waited impatiently at the foot of the stairs, nervously swaying back and forth, trying not to give in to the panic that was making every inch of him want to run up those stairs and be by Dean’s side.  Rowena swore it would be better if they had privacy, but it made his skin crawl with discomfort not knowing what was happening. His heart sank when Dean walked down the stairs looking at him in confusion asking “Who’s this hippy?”

Sam frowned at Rowena in frustration and uncertainty as she looked back at him with a sad face.  Then Dean busted out laughing. He was so happy to be able to remember his brother.  He knew Sam would be upset by the joke but he couldn’t resist.

A mixture of such strong emotions washed over Sam causing him to feel overwhelmed momentarily.  He had to fight back tears of joy at seeing Dean’s face light up with memory and self awareness staring back at him.  Then Dean began describing a long ago Halloween trick he had played making Sam’s heart want to burst.  Knowing that Dean remembered him was the best thing ever, in spite of his annoyance at the joke.

They quickly rid themselves of Rowena making sure to keep the grimoire safe from her usage.  Sam would never express to her the depth of his gratitude, wouldn’t give her that kind of satisfaction and leverage over him, but it was there deep to his bones nonetheless. 

Dean said he didn’t remember most of what had occurred and Sam was thankful for that too.  He couldn’t help his mind wandering to the fact that Dean had been with someone else, but he knew it wasn’t really Dean. So he tried hard to let it go and tried to stick with teasing Dean and keeping it light about what had happened.

Dean became extremely tired soon after they left the city and Sam offered to drive.  He surprisingly agreed which told Sam exactly how much the experience had drained from his brother.

Dean drifted off to sleep listening to some of Sam’s boring music.  But he woke abruptly with a start.  They were still in the car but a lot of time must have passed because it was early dusk, if the pale grey of the sky, flashing quickly by the passenger side window, was any indication.  Dean remembered.  He remembered everything.

He turned and looked at Sam and said quietly.  “I just remembered what happened the night I got cursed.”

Sam fought his best not to get upset, but dread tickled up the back of his neck.  If there were details of Dean’s tryst with the waitress he really wasn’t up for that kind of information sharing.  He had heard way too many stories growing up, and in the subsequent years of his yearning for his brother, to be able to handle any knowledge of what happened that night.

“It’s about that waitress.” Dean whispered.

Sam huffed in exasperation.  “I can’t Dean, please, I don’t blame you for what happened while you were hexed, you couldn’t help yourself, but I can’t hear about it okay?” His pitiful tone pleaded for mercy.

“No Sam you don’t get it.” Dean sat up straighter in the seat, turning to look at Sam as he spoke.  “The witch dude didn’t hex me until after I left the bar, not until I chased him out into the woods.”

Sam was confused at first but then comprehension dawned on him. He felt nauseous and like he had swallowed a chunk of dry ice as the thought of Dean’s indiscretion with the waitress being while Dean was still solidly himself.  Cold numbing panic ran through his veins and down his arms making his fingers tingle.  Tears flowed freely from his eyes. “So you slept with her because you wanted to?”

“What? Oh God no Sammy!”  Dean reached for him but Sam recoiled as far as the seatbelt and the door would allow.

“Sammy no, it means I didn’t sleep with her at all.”  Dean spoke so quickly Sam could barely make out what he said.

Confusion caused Sam’s eye to twitch and he was getting the first signs of a tension headache from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel, forcing his shoulders to hunch.

“I don’t underst…” Before Sam could ask, Dean plowed ahead with his explanation.

“I don’t know why she lied to us Sam but I never slept with her.  After I rode the bull, which was awesome by the way!” Sam’s twisted up pissy look silenced that train of Dean’s runaway thoughts.

He cleared his throat and continued, “Anyway after my ride was over she came on hot and heavy offering to take me in the back room.  I told her I was flattered but tried to politely brush her off.  That is when I first recognized the dude at the other end of the bar as one of people the vic was shaking hands with in a picture in his office.” 

“The chic was starting to get really aggressive and I was afraid it would call too much attention from the guy so I agreed to meet with her after her shift, just to get her to shut up and walk away, so I could get a better look at him.  But he noticed I was checking him out and ran.  So I took off after him and well the rest is history.”

He ended in a triumphant smile reaching for Sam again.

Sam wanted to allow his pain to be alleviated, but doubt hung heavy in his heart.  “Why would she lie?”

“I dunno Sam, she was with a gaggle of girls at the waffle place the next day. At least one of them was also from the bar and I bet she had told them we were supposed to hook up. It must have been an ego bruise that I didn’t remember her or something.”  He shrugged and tried to catch Sam’s eye but Sam was still reluctant.

“Maybe lying about it made her feel better somehow, or maybe she thought if she said we had already hooked up once I would come back and actually go through with it this time.”  His voice grew more desperate as he realized Sam still wasn’t convinced.

 “Sammy, I swear to you, I didn’t cheat on you.  I didn’t even give it an ounce of thought before running out of that bar.  I don’t want anyone but you Sam.”

Finally Sam didn’t pull away when Dean tentatively reached to touch his arm again.  Relief poured through both brothers at the connection. Dean ran his hand up and down Sam’s arm from his shoulder to where his hand sat on the wheel and back up again.  The contact eased the tension in Sam’s soul as much as in his tightened muscles, pulling a sigh from deep within him.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you got your memory back Dean.” Sam said through tears of joy. “Not just about the girl.”

Dean looked at Sam with an _I call bullshit_ expression.

Sam chuckled, his throat thick from equal parts tears and emotion. “Well okay, mostly about her,” They smiled at each other as he continued.

“But really Dean, watching you forget everything, forget yourself, that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

“I’m so sorry Sammy.”  Dean’s hand moved up to his shoulder and squeezed.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that would be like.” He caressed his hand up Sam’s neck and then ran his fingers through his silky smooth hair earning another sigh from his brother.

“I can’t imagine what I would do if you forgot me.” Dean whispered sadly.

Sam took Dean’s hand in his, turning it to kiss the rough palm, rubbing it against the grain of his stubbled cheek, earning a sigh from Dean in return.

Sam looked over at his brother and in a reverent, emotion heavy voice whispered “In case you forgot, I love you.”

Dean slid across the seat and nuzzled his nose up along Sam’s neck, causing chills to run up Sam’s spine, as he murmured against Sam’s ear, “Prove it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments. Your support is so wonderful and unexpected! I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it was heavy with emotion and follows the episode scene by scene.
> 
> All seasons are roller coaster rides, but this season seems to be very emotional even just the canon parts. I love it, but damn it makes it hard to write sometimes :)


	16. Pleasure From Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because of the fight with Ramiel, Sam has a nightmare but Dean makes him feel all better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the episode that inspired this chapter so much. It started out angsty and so I figured that was where this chapter would stay, but the boys had a much different direction in mind. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Please feel free to point any out so that I can fix them and make this better.

Dean lay on the old battered couch in the barn, the lance wound in his side bloody and weeping.  Craggy black death wove a patterned path into his skin. Destruction marched out and upwards from the stab, moving progressively across his belly, up his chest towards his face with a persistent inevitability. 

The world was fading away for Sam, leaving a spotlight on Dean as bright as the sun.  As Sam watched in horror, Dean’s body began collapsing on itself from within.  He was shrinking as Sam stood frozen, speechless for any words except the continuous frightened whisper of “Dean, Dean, Dean.

The screaming began, ripping Sam’s throat open as thick black ooze poured from Dean’s mouth.

“Sammy, hey Sammy, baby boy, wake up.” Dean shook Sam, trying to rouse him from whatever nightmare was choking him into paralysis, causing him to shake and pant in his sleep.  This had been a regular occurrence when they were younger.  Dean was acutely attuned to his brother’s breathing, had been from the first time he had to sleep on the far side of a twin bed with baby Sam tucked snuggly between him and the wall.  The nightmares had started sometime after Dean’s first hunt. They had lessened as Sam had grown older, but had still occurred occasionally until he left for Stanford.

Sam woke with a start.  Dean pulled him closer, whispering calming noises as he brushed his fingers through Sam’s hair.

“You haven’t had that kind of a doozy in a while.” Dean kissed his forehead. The last one Dean remembered being this harsh was while Sam was fighting internal memories of Lucifer after he got his soul back.

“Wanna talk about it?” He rubbed gentle fingers along the side of Sam’s face, brushing away rogue tears as they escaped unbidden.

Sam blinked bleary eyes into the darkness trying to focus on feeling Dean’s body next to his. He echoed Dean’s calm breathing trying to slow his heart so it would no longer feel like a wild thing attempting to rip its way free from his chest.

Sam closed his eyes, but seeing Dean’s collapsing body on the bench he snapped them open again quickly instead.  He snuggled even closer, burying his face in Dean’s neck.  He breathed in the smell of whiskey, gun powder, knife oil and underneath that, home.

Dean’s arm tightened across Sam’s back as Sam snuffled against him.  When his heart had quieted, finally he spoke. “It was you rotting from the inside out in the barn instead of Cass.”

Dean’s hand began rubbing comforting circles in a figure eight pattern the length of his back.  “It’s okay Sammy, I got you.

Sam’s right arm snuck across Dean’s broad chest, his hand coming to rest over Dean’s beating heart.  From the time Sam’s nightmares began as a kid, the feel of Dean’s heartbeat against his palm made him feel safe, like nothing else.

Dean resumed his kisses along Sam’s forehead with feather soft touches of his lips.

They lay quietly together for a while.  Dean was beginning to wonder if Sam might try to sleep again. 

“Did you know my nightmares were almost always like that growing up?”

Now that Sam had relaxed against him some, Dean’s voice turned sleepy as he whispered “Whaddaya mean Sammy?” in response.

“Most of the nightmares back then had you replacing victims of the cases we were working.  Sometimes if Dad or one of the hunters had gotten hurt while fighting whatever monster they were up against, it was always you that was near death in the dreams instead of the person who was actually hurt.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Sam began baby soft kisses of his own along Dean’s collarbone.

“I didn’t want you to worry anymore than you already were.  Also, I was afraid somehow you would sense I loved you differently than I should as a brother if I told you the truth of all my nightmares. So I kept it to myself and just blamed all the nightmares on the monsters instead.”  He sighed in the dark.

“It was one of the reasons I always begged you not to go on hunts when Dad thought I was too young to go.  I worried myself sick every time you were off with him.”

Dean was back to running his fingers through Sam’s spun silk hair.  Working the tangles out gently, he whispered “I’m so sorry that I was a source of fear and nightmares for you.”  The sadness in Dean’s voice beat against Sam’s heart with angry wings.

“Dean you’ve been my everything for as long as I can remember.  The thought of losing you, of you being hurt or harmed in some way, has always made me feel so powerless.  Especially when I was a kid.”  He took a shaky breath.  “But I wouldn’t trade you being my whole world for anything.”

A hush fell between them yet again.

“I’ve been thinking about Dad lately.”  Sam could feel Dean tense slightly against him, but all he said was “Oh?”

“I think it’s because Mom’s been gone, working with other hunters and keeping quiet about details the way Dad used to.  It’s déjà vu and makes me feel like I did when Dad would keep us in the dark all the time, popping in to give orders or demand we fall in line like good little soldiers. But he was gone so much, that is what feels so very familiar.”

Dean’s only reply was a deep murmur of understanding as he brushed his lips against Sam’s temple.

Dean’s left hand came up and rested on Sam’s where it lay still over his heart.

“You don’t seem as angry with her as you did with Dad all the time.” Dean took a beat and then changed his mind. “Well you did seem angry in the barn when you asked her what she had gotten us into.”

“That’s because she seemed to know more than she was saying.  I don’t know what exactly, but something felt off this entire hunt with her.”

Dean sighed.  “Yeah I felt that too.  But she’s like Dad.  She’s not gonna tell us anything til she’s good an ready.”

Sam huffed into Dean’s shoulder, “Yeah, I know.”

Sam breathed in deeply of Dean’s scent and calming energy.  “Mom’s not anything like I thought she would be.”

The boys lapsed into silence again.  Their breathing falling in sync from years of practice.

“I’m sorry Dean.  I know how much her being distant hurts you.  I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

Dean gathered Sam against him, enveloping him with both arms pulling him snug.

“Shh Sam, don’t ever keep your feelings from me out of trying to protect me.  I wanna know what you’re going through.”

Being safe in Dean’s arms, with him so close, all the sadness seemed unimportant.  “Right now I don’t want to think about her or Dad anymore.”

“Got something better to think about?” Dean’s voice turned rough with desire.

“I’m sure you could give me something better to focus on.” Sam mocked playfully in response.

Dean rolled over in such a swift lithe manner that it took Sam’s breath away for a moment.  He relished the feel of having all of Dean’s weight pinning him down instantly without any hope of escape.

Dean’s mouth was on his, breaching Sam’s lips with his tongue forcefully, hungrily.  His hands were on Sam’s wrists pulling them above Sam’s head.  Sam had been so sleepy the night before, after the intense fight with Ramiel, that he had fallen into bed still wearing his t-shirt. Dean pulled it up over his head but instead of removing it completely, he used it to twist around Sam’s wrists in a makeshift restraint. 

Sam pulled at it and there was very little give.  In fact, it was tight enough to convey the illusion of control, which in turn sped up his breathing, making his dick plump to full attention in his boxers.

Dean went back to ravishing Sam’s mouth as if he was starving for it.  Dean felt like he was actually starving for Sam most of the time.  He wasn’t sure he would ever get enough of Sam to fully feel sated.  It seemed like the more he got to have of his brother, the more he wanted, desperately.

He sucked his way down Sam’s throat earning an almost painful moan in response.  He then spent some time focusing on biting and sucking at Sam’s nipples in turn until they were standing hard at attention and so oversensitive that just a swipe of his tongue across one caused Sam to cry out from the intensity. 

Satisfied with a job well done, he moved farther down nipping at Sam’s belly along the way. Sam was writhing under him from the onslaught to his senses.

He pulled back enough to remove the rest of Sam’s clothing as well as his own in swift efficient movements. Repositioning himself back where he left off, he began his ministrations anew.

Dean made his way down toward his main goal, feeling Sam desperately trying to press himself up against Dean for any friction he could manage.  Dean lowered himself to hover his mouth over Sam’s throbbing cock, breathing wet heat onto him without actually making physical contact yet. 

The darkness surrounded them, blinding them almost completely.  The lack of visual stimulus seemed to make each touch, each breath intensified by a thousand fold.

Sam cried out, “Dean please, I need you.”

Dean never could refuse Sammy anything. He licked up his shaft and sucked him down in one go, flattening his tongue to make room as Sam’s ample member pushed forward to fill his mouth with his musky flavor.  His head pressed the back of Dean’s throat and he swallowed around it trying to relax his gag reflex.

Sam groaned in pleasure his body convulsing upwards forcing himself deeper into Dean’s mouth, nearly gagging him.  Dean flattened his palms against Sam’s hips forcing him back down and under his control, pressing his fingers into Sam’s skin hard enough to bruise.

“Dean, please, I’m so close,” Sam begged in desperation.

Dean hummed his approval around Sam, sending shockwaves up his spine.

“No, Dean, please, I want you inside me when I come.”

Dean raised his head and growled, “You’ll take what I give you and you’ll like it.”

Sam threw his head back from the shock of the words, surrendering to the pleasure running through him from Dean’s control.  Dean barely got his mouth back around him again before Sam began to come across his tongue, salty and hot.  Dean moaned in pleasure at Sam’s losing control.

Dean gave Sam no time for solace before reaching into his nightstand and popping the top off the lube, shoving two slick fingers deep inside him. Sam had no time to even catch his breath before Dean scissored him open roughly.

Sam was panting hard at the intrusion and then Dean was brushing against his prostate making his freshly emptied dick try to pump fruitlessly again.

“De… ungh” was all Sam could manage when Dean pushed another slick finger inside, fucking him open relentlessly fast.

“God yes De..” was barely recognizable, Sam was so lost to the pleasure.

That was all Dean needed to hear. 

He raised up bringing Sam’s legs over his shoulders in the same motion.  He withdrew his fingers pulling a whine out of Sam.  “Shh, I’ve got you.”  Dean whispered at the same time as he nudged Sam’s opening with his throbbing cock.  He felt Sam’s legs tense against his shoulders in anticipation.  He brushed his lips against Sam’s thigh, kissing it softly before biting down hard.  Sam bucked against him with a gasp.

Dean used Sam’s own momentum to push himself in as far as he could go.  Sam cried out in ecstasy pulling at Dean with his strong legs trying to drive him even further inside. 

It was almost too much for Dean.  Sam’s tightness and heat combined the friction into an intense symphony of pleasure with each stroke Dean made inside. The withdrawal was almost as good because it pulled little panting huffs of sound out of Sam each time.  Dean ached to the depths of his soul for Sam.  Needed to use him, to fill him up.  It was like a hunger at the base of his spine wanting to drive harder and faster out of control.  He snapped his hips with a ravaging pace.  Animalistic grunts were torn from Dean’s lips involuntarily.  He grabbed at Sam’s shoulders for leverage nearly bending him in half.

Sam had tried to be good, holding his tied hands above his head all this time.  But when Dean bent low over him, he didn’t even realize he had moved them until they were thrown over Dean’s head, his elbows coming to rest against his own knees.  Sam used his bound hands against the back of Dean’s neck to pull him down into a kiss.  Sam sucked at his mouth feeding at it with a frenzied need.  Dean bit at Sam’s lips and worked his way down his neck. Biting and sucking with a ferocious intensity, growling and panting against his throat.  The change in angle forced Dean’s cock against Sam’s prostate with each harsh drive inside.  

“You’re hard again aren’t ya Sammy?” Dean panted heatedly into Sam’s ear as he felt Sam’s dick trapped between their stomachs.

Sam could barely force his mouth to make sense. “Yeah, Dean, God, oh yeah.”

Dean picked up the pace even more, forcing sharp guttural breaths from Sam’s open mouth.

He drove his dick mercilessly over Sam’s prostate.

Sam was lost in his own pleasure, no longer able to participate with any plan or forethought, just giving his body over to the feeling of being used for Dean’s desire.

Dean’s balls began to draw up, from the imminent pressure of his upcoming release, his body began shaking with the force of trying to hold back just a little longer.  His voice was low and gravelly as he demanded raggedly against Sam’s ear, “Come for me Sammy.”

Sam began pumping hot and wet between them untouched which pulled Dean into his own orgasm.  His body began to wrack hard and jaggedly against Sam, no longer able to maintain any rhythm whatsoever.

They found one another’s mouths again but couldn’t maintain any cohesive kiss, just heavy open mouthed panting, swallowing down each other’s breath as if it was needed to stay alive.

When Dean’s body had calmed and his mind had come back online, he slipped out of Sam, silencing his whine of loss with a heated kiss.

He reached behind his own head and untied Sam’s hands, allowing them to drop to the bed.  He then scooted backwards and eased Sam’s legs down and off his shoulders gently.  He massaged at Sam’s thighs which earned him a moan of a different kind of pleasure.  Then he reached over and caressed Sam’s wrists and up his arms trying to work out any potential soreness from the angle they had been held at for so long.  Sam murmured his appreciation but then pulled Dean down against him into a snuggle. 

Sam turned until his mouth found Dean’s ear.  His voice was a low rumble as he whispered, “I love the way you use me.”

Dean felt it as a shock to his solar plexus, making him lose his breath momentarily.

“God Sam, the things that come out of your mouth.”

Dean swallowed hard trying to get his breathing back to normal.  If his body wasn’t still trying to recover from the wracking orgasm, his dick would be attempting to get hard again just from Sam’s filthiness.

“You make me crazy.”  Want filled his belly in spite of his still soft cock.

Sam chuckled deep in his throat. “You can always make me pay for it later.”

Dean nuzzled his nose against Sam’s throat making Sam hum in appreciation and then Dean growled as he bit down hard instead.  Sam sucked in air his hands convulsing on Dean’s shoulder, clutching at him just to feel some kind of balance as his body flooded with endorphins.

“Dean!” Sam barely managed to get out before his body arched off the bed.

It was Dean’s turn to laugh, but it came out sultry and raw with need. “Consider that a down payment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written so many sex scenes ever as I have for this Wincest story. I hope they don't become boring or repetitive. I am trying to intersperse the porny parts only when they happen organically. I am not sure where this season is going to end up so I still have no idea where this story will end up. Thank you all so much for sticking with me and for the continued comments and kudos. You will never know how much your support means to me!!!


	17. Caught Completely Off Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary finally fesses up to the boys about her work with the British Men of Letters. Things do not go well. Hearts break in the aftermath of the revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a doozy. I had a very hard time watching the pain the boys endured in the situation at the end of episode 13 and the beginning of episode 14. It was a powerful thing to witness and I hope I have in some small way done their emotions justice.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd and therefore all mistakes are my own. Please let me know of any mistakes you notice because then I can fix them and make it better for everyone.

The boys grabbed greedily at the food and drink Mary proffered by way of hello, as they prepared to hear what she had been up to since they last saw her.

“Jogging, Tai Chi, meditation,” she paused with a sigh, “melting Rugaru brains.”

The boys froze simultaneously in mid motion.

As she explained, that she had been working with the British Men of Letters, the wounds began to seep into each brother, breaking down the fragile truce they had built with the idea of their mother being in their lives, while still mostly being absent.

The betrayal that Dean had felt over and over again each time his mother had walked away from them since coming back from heaven, burned like a torch through the scar tissue that had shaped around his heart.  He folded his arms in a defensive stance, trying to hold back the distress and hurt inside. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together painfully.

Sam’s chest tightened, as if it was suddenly caught in a vice of confusion and unreal misery, making it hard for him to breathe through the flashback of tortured images, from his time as a prisoner of the Brits. His frame subconsciously shrinking in on itself behind the table separating him from his mother, as he used to when he was a child listening to John’s drunken rants.  

He cleared his throat.  Instead of allowing his memories to engulf him, Sam tried to reason with his mom, tried to remind her of what the Brits had put him through and why neither brother trusted them.

The Winchester stubborn streak ran deep in every member of the family, Mary was no exception.  But the level of exasperated defiance that she used to rail against her sons to defend the British Men of Letters, after what they had put the boys through, boggled both men’s minds.

Quiet rage fumed off of Dean like a poison cloud while disbelief and a fevered ache flooded from every pore in Sam’s body.

With each progressive revelation Mary made to the brothers, Sam could feel Dean closing off beside him.  He was trying to wrap his heart in anger, the only unfailing shield Dean had ever been able to count on in his life.

Sam was lost and so unsure how she could possibly not see what she was doing to them. The betrayal he felt was nothing to what he knew Dean was going through.  He ached to hold Dean, to console him, to grab his mom by the shoulders and shake her to make her see how she was breaking Dean yet again.

Once he realized the depth and breadth of her work with the Brits, the sheer length of time and amount of lies involved, Dean quit holding back. He allowed more and more contempt to flow freely against the woman he had longed for his entire life. His tone evolved into accusations and condescension. His emotions became volatile, shifting from anger to disbelief to bitterness.

As Dean berated her about being gone, angst and agony bled through his outrage, making his voice crack.  Sam could barely look at his mom listening to Dean tear apart beside him.

When Mary defiantly stated “I am not just a mom and you are not a child,” it ripped through all Dean’s defenses. 

The ragged tone in Dean’s voice as he said “I never was,” broke Sam asunder.  He fought back the tears, trying to hold himself together so that he could be strong for his brother, who was always, always so steady for him.

Sam felt it as Dean pulled himself together once again behind a cold steel wall. Shutting himself down until there was nothing soft left, Dean stared stony-eyed at the woman breaking his heart, refusing to acknowledge her as his mom any longer. He called her Mary and told her vehemently “there’s the door,” as he turned his back and walked out of the room.

“Sam” Mary began, hoping her younger son would be more reasonable.

Sam stood up with shaky legs, his entire body vibrating from his world being turned upside down.  He fought back tears with every breath and could only manage a harsh whisper of “you should go,” before he followed his other half from the room.

Dean was in the gun range when Sam finally found him.  He was emptying clip after clip into the already shredded target.

Sam walked over to him, slowly so as to not spook him.  He knew Dean would expect him, but still, he made sure to approach from the side so as to be clear in Dean’s peripheral vision.

Dean put the gun down on the shelf in front of him, shoulders drooping in a way that cut Sam’s heart open even more.

Sam reached for Dean slowly, expecting him to rebuff his first attempt.  But Dean surprised him falling into Sam’s arms in complete emotional collapse.

He made no noise as he cried against Sam’s shoulder.  Tears rolled off Sam’s face wetting Dean’s hair where his head was nestled against Sam’s jaw.  They cried against each other in a way they had never allowed before.  Both completely bereft.  The only solace to be found was in knowing the other was as completely broken as he was.  They had been orphans for so long, even before their father had made the ultimate sacrifice, they had always depended on each other as they could no one else.  But this was different somehow, deeper wounds in already barely held together pieces, only just recently healing from their newly accepted love for one another.

In spite of feeling awkward from the start with their mom, each man had a little boy’s hope of acceptance and love from her.  And in spite of trying to not let that hope take root, as so often happens, it had dug itself deep into the cracks and crevices of each of their hearts.  But she had just pulled that hope out by the roots and burned it to ash.

Dean clung to Sam and wept openly.  Sam wrapped his long arms around Dean’s back pulling him as tight against him as he could manage. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” Sam whispered the mantra slowly against the side of Dean’s head.

A strangled “Sammy…” was all Dean could manage before his throat closed up completely in grief.

This was so rare.  Dean was always the one to console and smooth the way for Sam’s emotions.  Sam had never really felt his brother adrift in this much raw anguish.  Even when Dean confessed how he felt about himself, after he came back from Hell, explaining his deepest darkest shame, he hadn’t allow Sam to see this much vulnerability.

Sam tried to put his own pain on hold. He began rubbing one hand along the back of Dean’s head making soothing murmurs deep in his throat.

He held Dean until his sobbing quieted.  Running his lips across his forehead, pressing light kisses everywhere he could reach.

Dean took a deep shuddering breath. 

“We’ll figure this out.” Sam whispered against his scalp.

“I don’t wanna figure anything out Sammy.”  The sudden harshness of his tone took Sam by surprise, although after a moment he realized it shouldn’t.  Rage was so much easier for Dean to manage.  Always had been.

“S’ok Dean.  However you want to handle it, I’m here.”

“Good, cause she’s walked out on us one too many times and now this?” Dean pulled away from Sam and leaned his hip against the gun shelf behind him.

“If she wants to work with those sons of bitches, then she can stay gone as far as I’m concerned.”

Sam’s mouth pulled into a slim line but that was the only slip of emotion he allowed himself before he got his face under control.  Now was not the time to discuss how Dean’s anger was a shield he was hiding behind. 

Dean either didn’t notice the change or made himself believe he hadn’t.  He turned back towards the range and picked his gun back up.

Sam reached out and ran his hand down Dean’s back. Dean surprised him once more by turning quickly and catching Sam’s hand, pulling it close.

He held it against his stubble rough cheek, that was still wet and tear streaked, and then moved it to his lips, kissing the palm before dropping it and whispering, “I love you too Sammy, more than I can say.”

He turned again to face his ragged hanging target and Sam’s heart began thudding haphazardly in his chest, like thunder in an approaching storm.  The visceral quality of openness Dean had shown him tonight was almost too much to bear.  After a lifetime of watching his brother, of having to read between the lines and hanging on every rarely shared sentiment that made its way out of Dean, like a buried treasure rising from beneath the sand, Sam was overwhelmed by all he was just privy to.

He took a shaky breath and realized his body was quaking from the adrenaline dump.  “I’m gonna go heat up some food.” The thought of those burgers cooling on the table was almost enough to sour his stomach. He would find something else to feed them, anything but their mom’s shallow offering.

“Okay Sammy, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sure Dean, take as long as you need.” He doubted his brother heard the last over the gun report that rang out in an echo against the range walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thoroughly enjoyed exploring and adding to this situation. I am in awe of the truly exceptional quality of bad mothering skills of Mary Winchester. I really loved when Dean gave Mary what for in this exchange in the episode, however what it cost him in the process was gut wrenching for me. 
> 
> I hope this was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write, in spite of the painful angst involved. But honestly what would the Winchesters be without all the angsty goodness that is their lot in life.


	18. Another Secret, Another Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam follows in Mary's footsteps lying to Dean about working with the British Men of Letters. Guilt and angst ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update has taken so long. The episodes that don't have a lot of brotherly interaction are hanging me up. With the impending two episode finale coming this week I am hoping the rest of this work will flow more smoothly. 
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so please feel free to let me know of any mistakes grammatical or otherwise you see. It will help me to correct them and hopefully make this better for everyone involved.

Sam kept reading and rereading the messages from their mom on his phone.  He hadn’t responded to any of them because he was still upset.  Not as upset as Dean, who had been gruff with Sam for the last three days because of it.  Sam tried to be patient and understand that Dean didn’t deal well with emotions under the best of circumstances, but this thing with their mom was eating him alive from the inside out. 

His brother’s terse behavior was beginning to wear on Sam though.  He needed to talk all this out.  He wanted to figure out why Mary did what she did.  It made sense that she kept it secret, obviously, with as badly as the boys had reacted.  But why was she working with the Brits in the first place? 

The question kept itching at Sam’s brain and wouldn’t let him concentrate on anything consistently for more than a few minutes at a time.  So when Dean walked in with the “new case” that wasn’t a case at all, Sam shot the idea down.  Dean griped at Sam who had to bite his tongue not to respond in kind.

Seeing the pain and anguish writ large across Dean’s expressive face, Sam asked if he wanted to talk about it. To his surprise Dean finally said “What was she thinking man?” which was the first thing Dean had managed even remotely related to their mom in days. 

Sam’s heart cinched hard with the mixture of his own pain and Dean’s roiling through him.  He couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Maybe we should ask her.”  He tried not getting his hopes up. Dean’s negativity didn’t surprise him and Sam attempted to remain calm as he began to express his opinion about why they should reach out and talk to Mary.

Dean, of course, ran away towards a bottle, even though it was still early morning, but not before lashing out at Sam with “And this whole peacemaker shtick that you’ve been running, first with Cass, now with Mom, it’s getting old man.”

The barb confused Sam who responded with “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re always playing the middle, Sam. For once, why don’t you pick a side.”

Sam stared in disbelief as Dean stomped up the stairs and out of the bunker to go find some alcohol.

His brain knew Dean’s words and anger came from a place of pain.  But that knowledge did nothing to soothe Sam’s wounded heart. 

He was sure Dean had no clue what that jab would do to him.  He had an old scabbed over wound from his teenage years that pulled open at the echo of Dean’s derisive accusation.  Sam had always felt Dean played the middle as often as possible in fights between Sam and their dad.  Ultimately though, Dean had taken their father’s side in most every argument.  Even though Dean tried his best to make things up to Sam when his father wasn’t around, it was a wound so deep he doubted it would ever fully heal.  Sam hadn’t thought about those old fights in a long time, hadn’t felt the pang of betrayal from his brother choosing his father’s side in at least a decade since his father’s death. 

He picked his phone up and read Mary’s latest text.  It was a lure he knew, her saying they needed to meet urgently.  He wasn’t sure whether it was his need to find out why she did what she did, or the pain Dean had just inflicted on him that drove him to agree to meet.  It was probably a combination of both if he were being honest.

He tried to swallow his guilt while licking his emotional wounds the entire drive to where his mom stood waiting at the temporary British headquarters. Her explanation of wanting a better future for him and Dean swam around in his head.  He hadn’t believed that was possible in years.  Didn’t really want a life other than the one he had, especially now that he and Dean were together romantically. 

But as he listened to the Brit’s plan to wipe out all vampires in the middle of the country, how they had almost accomplished it already, hope at the thought of a peaceful life fluttered ghostly against his mind. 

Sam would have thought the failure to plan for an attack on their US base would have lessened his belief that their way of doing things was better. But in spite of that glaring shortcoming, giving him the tools to take out the alpha vampire sealed the deal for Sam. 

When Sam saw Dean at the base after the attack he was thrilled that his brother came to his aid.  Dean was never one to let his anger keep him from rushing to Sam if he was in danger.  But confusion spread across Sam’s face when he realized Dean had no way of knowing he was even at the Brits’ base of operation. 

He asked how Dean even knew he was there, but Dean’s glance towards their mom said it all.  He could no more allow his anger towards her to keep him from helping than he would have towards Sam.  Relief spread through Sam upon hearing Dean accept the situation with his mom.  Explaining that he didn’t like her stance about it, but that she was still his mom gave Sam hope that he would eventually understand that Sam wanted to work with them too.   He hadn’t thought it would be possible that he could work with the same people who were responsible for torturing him and trying to kill both he and Dean. The success of their methods was undeniable, however.  He knew Dean wasn’t ready to hear it from him though. 

Dean could barely stomach the idea of their mom working with the Brits in spite of his saying he would deal with it.  He was edgy and snarky whenever it was brought up.  So Sam made up a story about creating a computer program to feed them cases.  It was the only reasonable explanation other than the truth that Sam could think of to explain how he was finding so many cases back to back for them to go after.

He hated lying to Dean.  Nothing good ever came from it, but he wanted to continue to do the most good for the most people. The British Men of Letters providing intel and caseloads on a nonstop basis proved that this was the way to do so in Sam’s opinion.  It just made him feel shitty every time he had to use the lie to cover the truth to Dean.

It was clear though that Dean loved the excitement from the sheer number of new cases they were working on.  Sam hadn’t seen him so happy in a long time.  Even having to work with Crowley on the hellhound case didn’t curb his enthusiasm. 

Sam gritted his teeth while Crowley was around.  The amount of flirting he did with Dean always got under Sam’s skin.  Dean had never fully filled Sam in on what had happened between Crowley and himself while Dean had been a demon.  He had hoped that there was nothing more than the strange BFF situation Crowley had lorded over Sam at the time.  But Sam had always been afraid to dig into it too deeply.  At the time he and Dean weren’t together and Dean could sleep with whomever he chose.  But it didn’t keep Sam’s skin from crawling at the thought that maybe his brother had had something different with Crowley while he was a demon.  Demons were notoriously open sexually.  Sam shuddered at the thought as he drove away leaving Dean and Crowley in the woods to hunt the hellhound.  He had to focus on keeping Gwen safe until Dean could kill it. 

It was a good thing he wasn’t with Dean and Crowley during their unsuccessful hunt together because Crowley’s flirting was over the top. Dean let it roll off his back as he always did. He had no desire for Crowley, quite the opposite, but the attention the King of Hell gave him did always stroke his ego.

Sam listened to Gwen cry as she discussed how she had lied to Marcus before he died.  How she felt it was all her fault because he had loved her more than she had loved him and she lied to him just to make things easier on herself.

The sentiment made Sam think of his lies to Dean.  It gave him clarity and made him realize the lies were his choice for his own good, not to shield Dean as he had tried to convince himself.  It was to protect Sam from dealing with the disappointment he knew Dean would feel in him for following in their mom’s footsteps with the Brits. The guilt he felt and the realization he made about needing to come clean to Dean had to wait when the hellhound attacked the car and Sam in turn.

Saving Gwen and killing the hellhound did nothing to alleviate Sam’s guilt.  Only fessing up to Dean would do that. However, Dean’s disgust with the state of Baby after the hellhound was done with it proved that the ride home was not the right time to get into it.

When they walked in to the bunker as they dropped their gear at the bottom of the stairs, Mick phoned Sam.  Dean asked if it was his computer telling him of another case, and Sam took a deep breath.  He had to tell Dean and face the consequences.  He couldn’t keep lying to his beloved anymore.  It was killing him.

He told him the truth, but as he confessed, he could barely meet Dean’s eyes.  The shame Sam felt was overwhelming.  He knew he had justified his actions as being for the greater good, but the dread of Dean’s disappointment was really the culprit. He finally met Dean’s eyes and watched the disbelief and judgment pass across his brother’s face.  Dean’s voice lowered as he reminded Sam that it wasn’t just him that hated the British Men of Letters, it was Sam too, that they were together in their hatred of the people who had tortured Sam.

Sam stopped trying to explain.  Instead he just apologized for lying and awaited Dean’s verdict against him.  He deserved Dean’s wrath.  After all they had been through recently and how far they had come being honest with themselves about their shared feelings and passion for one another, for Sam to lie to him now, was a betrayal, no matter what the reason behind it.

To his astonishment, no harsh judgment came.  Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Dean understood.  In fact, he said Sam was right that they worked with people they didn’t trust all the time.  He even threw in the fact that he had just worked with Crowley as an example, which Sam couldn’t help but feel warm fuzzies about with Dean still not trusting the King of Hell.

Sam let out the breath he had been holding.  He agreed with Dean that they would bail the second that anything seemed off about the Brits.  Sam was so relieved.  It had gone better than he could have possibly hoped.  After all this time, after how much he believed he knew his brother, Dean never ceased to amaze Sam.  He probably never would stop surprising Sam, ever.

Sam felt unease again as his phone rang when he saw that the call was from Mick.  Having Dean agree in theory was one thing, but the timing of the call, made it apparent by the unhappy look on Dean’s face, that he still wasn’t thrilled to be on board with this plan. Dean’s expression was clearly resigned to the new state of things, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.  He wouldn’t back down though.  He told Sam to answer it.  Sam knew that someone’s life could be on the line if he didn’t, so he took the call, even though he wasn’t happy with the heaviness that floated in the air around Dean because of it.

The call wasn’t a new case, it was just a request for an update on hellhounds.  Sam was annoyed that it had been such unfortunate timing.  Dean had wandered off while he was finishing the conversation with Mick. 

Sam wanted to immediately find Dean.  Instead he moved around slowly trying to give his brother space and time if he needed it.  Sam put away some of the lore books, knowing he needed to clean his gear and unpack. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the confession.  He was so disappointed with himself for lying to Dean in the first place.  Even though there was no guarantee that Dean would have reacted the same way initially, he should have trusted him and given him the opportunity to make the decision for himself.

Sam had been standing staring into nothing in the library lost in thought without realizing it.  Dean came up quietly towards his back and wrapped his arms around his chest from behind causing Sam to jump in surprise.  Dean chuckled deep in his throat and it reverberated through Sam where Dean was pressed against him. It caused a shiver to run down Sam’s spine.

“Heya Sammy.” Dean said low and sultry.

Sam huffed out another surprised breath.  Dean must be taking this better than Sam had any right to expect.

“You know, I should probably punish you for lying to me.”  Dean growled against the back of Sam’s neck.

Sam was instantly aroused.  All the pent up fear and nerves were immediately lost upon hearing the threat.

Sam swallowed hard and had to clear his throat before he could reply.  “I don’t think I am familiar with the punishment code associated with lying.”

Dean’s hands rubbed down his chest and found both of his wrists caressing them.  “Oh don’t worry, before the night is over you are definitely going to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter will get finished soon. As the end of this chapter suggests it will involve smut. Lots of glorious smut hopefully. 
> 
> Again I am sorry that the update to this took so long. I got sidetracked by writing my first Walking Dead fanfic. It, of course, stars Negan (or as we in the Supernatural fandom first knew him as John Winchester.) I always hated John, but I am in love with Negan. Go figure.
> 
> You have made this process a wonderful experience and I cannot thank you enough for all the kudos and comments. You all are the best!


	19. A Deep Dive into Unknown Territory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wasn't kidding around about punishing Sam for lying to him and hiding his work with the British Men of Letters. They both enjoy the process immensely resulting in an unexpected realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the promised smut. I was surprised by how quickly it came together so I hope you enjoy.
> 
> As always this is completely unbeta'd, so if you see any errors, grammatical or otherwise, please feel free to point them out so that I can fix them and make this better for everyone.

Quicker than Sam’s lust filled brain could recover, Dean had both his wrists behind his back and clicked into a set of handcuffs.

“What the hell Dean?” Sam huffed in stunned surprise.

“I told you, you are going to pay for lying to me.”

Dean shocked Sam again by whipping a makeshift blindfold over his eyes before turning him around.

Sam’s heart raced as Dean perp walked him out of the library down the hall.  He was all mixed up and didn’t know where Dean was taking him.  He was pretty sure they had been moving too long to be headed towards either of their bedrooms. 

Sam was momentarily stopped in his tracks and then he heard a door being opened at his side.  Dean turned him to the left and then after a couple more paces pushed him against a wall.  “Stay.”

Sam did as he was instructed trying to calm his runaway pulse.

He heard metal scraping against concrete and fear clawed its way up his spine.  They were in the dungeon.  Sam swallowed hard.  He had no idea what Dean had in mind but he knew he was safe.  Down to his bones he knew Dean would never truly hurt him, so why couldn’t he convince his fight or flight system to be quiet?

Sam gulped for air, his skin tingling with anticipation that walked a fine line between arousal and panic.  His body was shaking and he was glad to be leaning against the wall because he wasn’t convinced he could have stood upright by himself at the moment, his legs were so unsteady.

He heard movement and harsh metallic scraping sounds but he had no idea what Dean was up to. He recognized chains rattling from somewhere across the room. That caused him to have to swallow around a large lump in his throat.

His dick was achingly hard, trapped uncomfortably in his pants.

Suddenly Dean grabbed him by his left arm and pulled him forward.  Sam almost tripped from the unexpected movement but Dean’s support was strong and steady, keeping him from falling.  “Easy there Sam,” Dean soothed, as he would a frightened horse.  “Wouldn’t want ya to get hurt… accidentally.”

Sam understood the unspoken warning about his eventually being hurt on purpose which made his entire body shiver.

Dean moved him farther into the room.  He uncuffed Sam’s hands, but before Sam could do anything about the freedom, his left hand was hooked into a new cuff above his head.  He gasped aloud as Dean stepped away from him and chains rattled off to the side yanking his hand up higher almost forcing him to stand on tippy toes.

Before he could get his bearings, Dean had his right hand in a similar position and chains pulled it up above his head to match the left.  Sam tugged on both but felt very little give.  It did earn him a “Tsk tsk Sammy,” from off to his right.

“You had better behave or things are going to get a lot more interesting.” Dean’s voice was low and smooth like it got when he was threatening an adversary.

Sam’s breath was coming in shallow pants now.

Dean’s desire was ramped up to an eleven.  Seeing Sam hanging there in the middle of the room from the demon chains made his entire body ache with the knowledge that he was able do whatever he wanted and there was nothing Sammy could do about it to stop him.

Dean scraped the demon blade along the table he had pushed off to the side of the room.  As it screeched metal on metal Sam jumped against his chains earning a dark chuckle from Dean.  They had played at baby steps with dominance and submission before, but had never really jumped off the deep end in this manner.  They hadn’t even discussed it in a general sense.  He was sure there was specific etiquette to this type of play, but their lives had never fit into any of society’s rules, why should their BDSM behavior be any different.

He neared his brother and ran his hand up his back feeling Sam’s muscles tighten in response.  That was new.  Usually when he touched Sam, his body melted against him.  This strained fear from Sam made Dean growl in response.

He took hold of Sam’s shirt collar and pulled it away from his neck in the back. Sam wondered for a second if he was trying to choke him but then he realized that wasn’t what was happening at all. 

The demon blade sliced through the back of Sam’s button up plaid with ease. From collar to tail it took maybe two seconds to rend apart. Dean stepped around him and cut against the buttons down the front of his shirt, making them fly around the room leaving the shirt hanging uselessly from Sam’s hands and shoulders.

“Hold still now Sammy.” Dean’s voice was serious against his ear before he moved away to one side. 

Sam had to hold his breath to follow the command.  His body was thrumming with energy, desperate to wiggle and release the tension.

Dean took hold of Sam’s wrist and cut the button from that area too.  He slid the blunt edge of the blade against Sam’s wrist cutting the shirt away from his arm and under his pit making him feel the cold metal the full length of his torso and then again as he ran it against his other arm and down.  He continued shredding the shirt to pieces bit by bit until it fell away and left Sam’s upper body bare.

He took the tip of the blade and played it across Sam’s back, down his spine.  There wasn’t enough pressure to break the skin, but the threat did the work well.  Sam sounded winded, but he wasn’t moving at all.  Dean realized Sam was doing his best to follow his direction and it pulled Dean’s groin tight with want.

Dean let the blade clatter against the table as he dropped it heedlessly once the task was finished.

He ran his hands up Sam’s chest earning a moan from Sam who threw his head back in response to the welcomed touch after the tension from the threats of the blade. Dean began kissing and licking across his chest, circling around to his back, kissing across his broad shoulders nipping and biting as he went.  He moved back around the front and attacked Sam’s nipples, first one then the other with a vicious hunger.  He sucked, licked and pinched both of then till they were standing at attention verging on the point of being raw.

Sam’s breath was heated against the top of Dean’s head and he let out groans every few seconds.  It was then that Dean realized how painful Sam’s erection must be against his pants.  He was bulged out against the jeans and every move he made in response to Dean’s attention to his nipples must be causing him agony of the highest pleasure just to have any friction at all against the rough material.

“We don’t want your dick to become too uncomfortable now do we?” Dean whispered against Sam’s ear as he palmed the aforementioned member.

Sam whimpered and thrust his hips forward without meaning to, his body aching from Dean’s ministrations.

“Now now, none of that.” Dean pulled his hand away and Sam made a disappointed noise.

Dean began unbuckling Sam’s belt.  He gave it a yank and whipped it out of his belt loops in one fierce movement causing it to end in a crack. Dean smiled wickedly as Sam jumped at the sound.

He pulled off Sam’s shoes and socks and then stripped him of his jeans and briefs making quick work of it, leaving Sam stranded in the middle of the room naked and trussed.  It stole Dean’s breath it was such a stunning sight.

He had seen his brother in positions like this before, albeit he had always been fully clothed with his life in peril from one monster or another.  He had never truly dreamed he would get the chance to be the one to cause him to be on display this way.  Although if he was being honest, there had been more than a few dark fantasies when he was a demon that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about before now as real possibilities.  At the moment, the potential seemed endless.  It was a bounty he was not too proud to be thankful for.

He hadn’t really had a plan when he left Sam talking to Mick earlier.  He was so hurt and angry that Sam had repeated his mother’s betrayal and lies.  But he wasn’t lying when he said he understood the reason behind it and the logic of it.  He couldn’t help his reservations and negative emotions in response however.  So he needed to get away.  He had dumped his stuff in his room but had too much sullen energy to calm down.  He wasn’t even sure what had inspired the idea other than they had been so busy with hunts the last few days they hadn’t had sex and he had realized now that they were home he was super horny.  The concept of “punishing” Sam had taken root and he had made quick work of gathering items together. He was delighted at the evolution before him from the wisp of barely formed idea that started it all.

He circled Sam who was shivering a little even though the room was comfortably warm.  It had been several moments Sam had stood there untouched, just waiting.  Dean watched as Sam licked his lips nervously.

He got up close to Sam, coming in from an angle, not touching him till his mouth was near his throat. He licked a broad stripe up Sam’s long neck and as he got to just below his jaw he bit down hard.  Sam cried out in pain but almost at the same instant Dean gave his dick a long stroke which caused Sam to end his cry with a guttural moan.

Dean reached back taking a handful of Sam’s beautiful hair and jerking firmly so that it left Sam’s neck even more exposed and he began to suck hard at the spot he had bitten.  Sam began to pant short shallow breaths and Dean gave his dick another stroke earning another deep gravelly sound from Sam’s open mouth.

“Dean please, I need you.” Sam’s voice was wrecked.  He wasn’t even sure what it was he was asking for, he just needed more.  More of anything Dean wanted to give him.  More pain, more pleasure, more Dean.  The stimulus was driving him mad, his being blind made everything more intense, more raw.  It went from too much to not enough and back again.

“Shhh Sammy, you’re being so good for me.” Dean whispered against his ear. 

Sam blushed across his cheeks but it quickly spread down until it enveloped his chest.  Dean watched in fascination.

Dropping his voice lower as an afterthought he added, “but remember, this is supposed to be punishment.”

Sam gasped at the menacing tone and swallowed hard.  Having his head pulled back at a sharp angle made the movement of his Adam’s apple even more noticeable and Dean watched the motion in rapt pleasure. Knowing it was him making Sam have all these reactions was intoxicating. He released his hold on Sam’s soft hair.

“Sammy, I am going to hurt you now.”

This time Sam’s gulp was audible.

Dean picked Sam’s belt up off the table where he had dropped it before removing Sam’s pants.

“You are at my mercy Sam, I want you to know that.” Sam’s arms shook against his bindings but he said nothing.

“Is that what you want?” Dean asked as he walked around his brother, never taking his eyes off him.  He watched his face, his body, checking for any signs that this was too much.  The stiffness of his cock was a visual affirmation even before Sam answered.

“Yes Dean.” His breath ragged and his voice a harsh whisper. “God yes.”

It was Dean’s turn to swallow around a lump in his throat.  He had never wanted Sam more than he did right now.  He had to take several calming breaths to quiet his own raging hard on.  If he wasn’t careful he might come in his pants untouched if Sam’s words were going to keep having such an intense effect on him.

Dean managed to get himself under control.  He faced Sam’s back at an angle with the belt hanging from his right hand.  They had never discussed what turned each of them on, but from the experimentation they had had during their times together, it was apparent that they both enjoyed pain.  Dean would depend on his knowledge of Sam’s noises and body language to help him read and gauge Sam’s response.  He didn’t want to go too far.  He was trusting Sam, to know his own limits, and he believed that Sam would tell him if he didn’t want something that was happening.

Dean took a deep breath and centered himself.  He looked at Sam’s perfect ass and swung the leather landing it firmly against both cheeks with a hard snap.

Sam cried out with a loud “Oh.” His entire body lunged forward in response. Dean spared a second to peer around to the front of his body, and just as he suspected, his cock was still standing at full attention.  In fact it had begun to weep a little making Dean’s mouth water.

Dean moved quickly to land another blow higher on his ass.  Then a third, lower almost to the point his cheeks met the tops of his thighs.

Sam’s ass was a beautiful angry crimson already.  Dean let the belt fly against Sam’s left shoulder and then his right, ending with a solid whip against his muscular mid back. 

Sam was making harsh guttural wheezing sounds which at first concerned Dean until he realized the noises were actually the words “Yes, yes, please.”

That hit Dean like a punch to the solar plexus.  He was on his knees in front of Sam in an instant with his mouth wrapped around Sam’s dick before Sam’s mind could catch up to the extreme change in stimuli. Dean grabbed Sam’s ass with both hands and squeezed hard pulling Sam deeper into his mouth.  With barely three good bobs of Dean’s head, Sam was coming with a loud sob.

Dean worked him through his orgasm relishing the taste of every drop as much as hearing the whimpers making their way out of Sam slack mouth.

Sam’s legs wobbled and slouched causing his weight to hang awkwardly against the chains.  Dean didn’t want to take a chance on his circulation getting cut off.

He pulled a chair out of the corner and quickly released one hand and then the other until Sam slumped heavily against him.  He helped him move to the chair and grabbed a bottle of juice off the metal table.

“Here Sammy, take a drink of this for me.” Dean brushed some of the hair out of Sam’s face gently.  Sam nuzzled against his palm and sighed contentedly before taking the bottle in his shaking right hand and doing as he was told.

Dean grabbed another chain from where it lay curled around the anchor in the floor to which it was attached.  He took the bottle from Sam after he had drained about half the contents.  Picking up the handcuffs off the table where he set the bottle, he slipped them through the large round iron circle at the end of the chain.  He then proceeded to fasten them back around Sam’s wrists as he watch an ‘oh’ form from Sam’s beautiful pink lips.

“You didn’t foolishly think I was finished with your punishment did you now Sam?” Sam’s flushed face paled in response. Sam made a move to go for his blindfold and Dean slapped his hand away.

“Oh Sammy, you were doing so well for me.”  Dean gently touched his face and rubbed his hand down his throat fanning his fingers around through his hair.  He gripped the back of Sam’s neck and squeezed roughly, “Don’t ruin it now.”

Dean straddled Sam’s lap putting his own jean clad bulging cock against Sam’s stomach.  He took Sam’s face in both hands and kissed him.  Sam groaned deep in his throat and eagerly matched Dean’s probing tongue.  He began making little happy sounds which pleased Dean immensely.  If Sam had in fact been too worn out to continue he would have stopped, in spite of his implied continuation.  But as Sam fed eagerly at his mouth lapping hungrily and pulling at his clothing as best as he could with his hands bound as they were, Dean felt safe with continuing.

Dean stood up and Sam whined in response.  “Be still now Sammy.” Sam immediately quieted and put his cuffed hands in his lap.

That motion alone grabbed Dean’s heart and squeezed. “Oh Sam, you are just perfect, do you know that?”

Sam’s smile in response was beatific as he looked up at Dean blindly, blushing wildly.

Dean brushed gentle fingers against his face and bestowed a kiss quickly on his mouth before moving to the table and pulling it to the middle of the room. 

He helped Sam stand up as Dean moved the chair back out of the way.  He bent Sam over the table and then moved the chain around to the back of it out of the way.  Sam didn’t have full range of motion but it was enough to prop himself up on his hands or elbows whichever he would prefer.

“Spread your legs wide for me Sammy.”

Dean took in the sight of the slightly raised welts across Sam’s ass cheeks.  Rubbing his calloused hand across them lovingly at first, earning a sigh, but then palming them roughly and squeezing, bringing a cry to Sam’s lips and raising him up on his tiptoes.

“Sammy, you are so beautiful.  You are doing so well.”  The praise made Sam’s head drop and another sigh fall out of him. Sam took a couple of deep breaths and then lowered himself back down to being flat footed. His knees were slightly bent and he put most of his weight on his stomach lying across the table but propped his arms up slightly on his elbows waiting.

Dean fell to his knees again, this time behind Sam and began kissing across the swollen lines along his ass.  He kissed and bit all around both cheeks and then moved to his true target.  Sam answered with a groan and his head drooped even lower until he rested his forehead against the table, his chain and cuffs rattling against the metal loudly with each movement.

Dean spread Sam’s cheeks and lapped his prize hungrily as if he were starving for it.  Sam couldn’t keep his hips steady.  He shoved back against Dean’s face and when no censure was forthcoming he worked greedily to meet every stroke of Dean’s tongue with his own thrust backwards.

Dean reached up across the table to grab the lube he had place within reach earlier when he set this scenario up.  He uncapped it one handed and wet three of his fingers thoroughly.  He never stopped his focus with his tongue, instead adding to it, first with one finger and then after a few moments of Sam’s moaning in appreciation and pushing back even harder with his strong legs and hips to meet each of Dean’s strokes inward, Dean added the second, and eventually a third.

Sam was keening and bucking his body eagerly.

Dean pulled back momentarily just long enough to growl “That’s it Sammy, show me how much you want me to fill you up.”

In spite of his recent satiety, Dean’s words created a hot ache low in Sam’s belly.

A whispered “Dean” was all he managed before he became lost in pleasure, giving his mind over completely to enjoying what Dean was doing to him, letting his body go pliant and needy. He moved with an animal hunger in a haze of want, yearning to be Dean’s, longing only for whatever Dean gave him. 

Dean felt Sam’s surrender.  It twisted Dean up like nothing else had tonight.

He moved back swiftly standing and grabbing the lube again with one hand, while unzipping his own pants with the other.  He dropped his jeans and briefs just low enough to pull himself free moaning in relief and desire.

The sight of his brother chained to the floor draped across the table stopped him in his tracks.  Need took hold of him and a wild heat drove him forward.  He lubed his aching cock as he moved, pushing the angry head into Sam’s spit and lube shiny hole.

Sam managed a breathy “Oh god, yes Dean.” And then Dean was in to the hilt and Sam couldn’t form a cohesive thought if his life depended on it.  He felt so full.  Dean pushed Sam’s back down till he was laying flat on the table, his hips canted higher at an angle.  They were back far enough away from the edge of the table that his dick hung free beneath it.  It was hard again but Sam was so out of his mind with a full bodied needy ache he didn’t realize it.

Dean pulled Sam’s hips back harshly as he forced himself as deep as he could go inside Sam’s red hot heat.  He began thrusting at an animalistic pace with coarse guttural sounds escaping his throat unnoticed.  He wanted Sammy, needed to own him, couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug bruisingly hard into Sam’s hips and used the hold for leverage to force himself deeper and deeper, faster and faster.  Every second or third thrust dragging full force across Sam’s prostate.

“Uh, uh, uh,” kept coming out of Sam’s open mouth. Drool was falling from his lips also unnoticed by either man.

Without warning Sam began to come untouched hanging low and full towards the floor.  The contractions around Dean were mind numbing and quickly sent him over the edge to follow his brother into blissful whiteness.

Dean slowly came to his senses draped across Sam’s back in collapse. Sam’s breathing was lethargic but steady under him.  He propped himself up gently and began to stand, his empty cock falling free of Sam which pulled a sad whine from his numb lips.  Dean replaced himself back in his pants and zipped up as he whispered, “Shh baby boy, I’ve got ya.”  He bent down again to kiss Sam’s sweat glistening spine.  Sam hummed happily at that, beginning to try to move himself.

“Easy Sammy.” Dean used both hands to glide up Sam’s back, wrapping them under his chest to help lift Sam up from the table.  Sam’s legs were shaky so Dean manhandled him around till he was seated on the table with his legs dangling. He removed the blindfold and then kissed each of Sam’s eyes as they blinked to get his bearings against the light that seemed harsh after so much time blind. Dean unlocked the cuffs bringing each red and angry wrist up to his lips kissing them gently.

“I’ve got some aloe back in my room, we’ll use when we get there okay?” Dean said his voice quiet and so loving it made Sam’s heart hurt.

Sam watched Dean as he moved to get a blanket from the corner, wrapping it snuggly around Sam’s shoulders draping the rest across his naked lap.

“I can carry you if you can’t stand.” Dean said kindly.

That jerked a laugh from Sam’s throat at the thought of Dean carrying his larger form wrapped in a blanket down the hall.  He found he couldn’t stop smiling at Dean.  He felt almost high he was so blissed out.  But he tried standing and found that his legs were no longer trembling.

“Don’t you laugh at me Sam.  No matter how big of a sasquatch you are, you’re still my little brother and I can still carry you.” Dean’s mock anger couldn’t stand up against Sam’s beautiful dimpled smile.

“Sure Dean, whatever you say.” Sam tried for appeasement but failed miserably as Dean’s indecipherable grumbles under his breath made clear.

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s naked waist and helped him maintain his balance as they walked back to Dean’s room.  Neither admitted it but the depth of their orgasms and the intensity of the session had wiped them both out.  Dean got Sam settled under the covers in his bed and then handed him a bottle of water and a power bar to eat from his cubby of snacks.  Sam snuggled in to the warmth gladly and ate the bar, drinking all the water quickly.  Dean disrobed and grabbed a matching snack and drink for himself along with the liquid aloe before crawling into the bed beside him.

He took a long drink of the water and then put it on the bedside table.  He raised one of Sam’s wrists to his lips and kissed it, then rubbed some of the lotion all around the wounded area.  He repeated the process on the other wrist all the while making sweet soothing noises. He suggested working on Sam’s ass and back, but Sam railed against it.  He was too tired and in the grand scheme of all the injuries he had endured in his life, the small pains Dean had caused were negligible. 

Dean couldn’t argue with that logic so he wrapped his strong right arm around Sam’s shoulder and pulled him against him while Dean finished his snack.  Sam snuffled along his neck and draped his arm over Dean’s chest, tracing circles and lines over his tattoo with his fingertip.

Dean finished all the water and then leaned his head back against the headboard.  He brushed his fingers through Sam’s hair and kissed his forehead over and over in the same spot.

“God Sam, you were amazing tonight.” Dean’s voice was hushed with awe and emotion.

Sam’s throat closed up and wouldn’t let him speak momentarily.  His chest hurt with the enormity of feelings he was suddenly overcome by.  He breathed shallowly not wanting to scare Dean or make him think he did anything wrong.   He nosed against his neck and kissed up behind Dean’s ear trying to ease the overwhelming expanse of his emotions.

He tried twice before his voice would work.  “I didn’t know I could feel so much, Dean.  It was like you were splitting me open and emptying me of everything.  All the anxiety, all the stress, all the fear, I have been carrying around from lying to you, it was all just gone.  Pooled out on the floor somehow.  You ripped me open til there was nothing left, then you filled me up.”

Dean’s crude “Yeah I did,” made Sam’s eyes roll in response.

Sam bit his shoulder hard.

“Ow Sammy!”

It was Sam’s turn to smile evilly.  Two can play at the punishment game.

“I was being serious Dean.” Sam’s tone was derisive, but he couldn’t help but smile at Dean’s innocent “what?” face he was trying to pull.

Dean kissed him squarely on the mouth shocking Sam.  There was no heat to it only love and an apology for the interruption.

Sam huffed and snuggled against him again.  “You cracked me open and left nothing but you behind, Dean. I didn’t know anything could feel that way.”

Dean brushed at Sam’s hair some more and used his other hand to move Sam closer.  He ran his fingertips up and down Sam’s shoulder pulling a sigh and a smile from his lips.

“There was a point where I felt you surrender to me.” Dean’s voice was reduced to a whisper against Sam’s forehead.

Sam nodded his understanding.  “I felt like I was yours, completely and utterly in a way that was never clearer than at that moment. I didn’t need to do anything except just give in and be yours, let you take me and have me.” Sam’s whisper matched Dean’s in tone and seriousness.  It was almost worshipful between them at that moment.  Almost holy.

“I never knew I needed your submission to feel whole Sam.” Dean confessed.  “I never knew I wanted your surrender until it happened.  Then it was like a part of me that had been missing finally fell into place.”

Sam couldn’t hold back the tears that had been threatening.  Once they began it was as if a floodgate was pushed open.  He sobbed against Dean’s shoulder, his tears pooling in the dip of Dean’s collarbone.

“Sammy.” Dean choked up and could say no more.  Tears rolled down his cheeks in response to his brother’s outpouring of emotion.  He hauled Sam’s body up until he rolled fully on top of Dean. They moved around until they were both comfortable, Sam’s head now resting on Dean’s opposite shoulder from where he had started, facing the other side of the room from where he had been looking.

They both sniffed wetly as Dean wrapped his strong arms around Sam and held him as close as he could manage, pulling the covers up around his shoulders snuggly. Dean kissed the top of Sam’s head contentedly and would have tilted Sam’s face up to kiss his lips but he realized Sam had fallen into an exhausted sleep.

Dean huffed in surprised affection.  The love he felt for Sam overwhelmed him in that moment and he began crying again silently, then he chuckled to himself.  He wouldn’t have believed that venturing into actual BDSM for the first time would have resulted in an entirely non apologetic chick flick moment.

Before he could follow the thought any further, he fell asleep with a smile buried in Sam’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recognize that this is very very very bad BDSM behavior. Never engage in BDSM without negotiating prearranged preferences, limits, boundaries and safewords. 
> 
> This scene is in no way a recommendation for anyone's behavior in real life.
> 
> Remember these guys have both been to hell and back, died numerous times and have lived in each other's pockets their entire lives. They understand each other in a way no one in real life possibly could. Plus their tolerances for pain and torture are extremely high given everything they have been through. 
> 
> Please only engage in BDSM responsibly and safely.
> 
> I hope this chapter is to your liking. I am not sure how many more chapters this story will have, but since the season ends tomorrow and this story is based entirely in that setting, I assume there won't be too many more. There are 8 episodes that I haven't dealt with after this chapter but my chapters tend to weave in and out of the official episodes so not sure where all this is headed. I might have a better idea after seeing the finale episodes. If so I will update that info with the next chapter posted.
> 
> Never fear though, now that I have a taste for writing for the boys, I can't see this being my only long work in this fandom. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments, kudos and support. You all are unbelievably amazing and I love writing for you.


	20. Memories of the Past Turn to Musings of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colt brings up hard memories for Sam. Fighting a crazy man who unleashes a god causes Dean to wonder about the future. The boys are getting better at talking to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys are being very inconsistent with me but I finally got through this chapter. I already have some ideas about the next one so hopefully that will make the time in between posts shorter.

Sam thought nothing of handing the Colt to Dean, when he strolled into the library, the morning after the disaster with Dagon and the accidental shooting of the lackey from the British Men of Letters.  But seeing it in Dean’s hand, watching as he caressed it and aimed it, caused painful memories from the past to flood Sam’s mind.  It caught him completely by surprise.

Images of Dean, head bloody from being thrown into a gravestone, shooting Azazel with the Colt, flashed before Sam’s eyes. Dean had had two missions in life back then, kill Azazel at any cost and take care of Sammy. He had succeeded and made their dead father proud with the first one, but the second had cost him his soul and a forty year stint in Hell, that had ripped at the fabric of who and what Dean was.

The overwhelming fear that had stabbed at Sam upon learning that Dean would die and go to hell for him, had caused him to lie awake shaking with sweat nearly every night of that dreadful year waiting for Dean to die.  Feeling powerless to save Dean, despair as the year passed day after day with no answers, and anger at him for choosing to save Sam at the price of himself.  That was one of the consistent frustrations Sam had had his entire adult life, Dean’s willingness to sacrifice himself at every turn for Sam’s well-being.

In years past, the weight of guilt from that had hung so heavy in Sam’s heart. He realized as he watched Dean with the Colt, so happy to have it in his hands again, that the guilt was a part of him still, but it no longer was a burden on him as it had been before.  They had both sacrificed themselves for each other time and again, they were together now, as they were always meant to be and somehow that had changed how he was feeling about himself and his own worth.

Dean looked down at where Sam sat watching him and smiled his goofy happy smile.  He was like a kid when it came to stuff like this.  That was one of the most endearing qualities Dean had. His ability, in the middle of the worst kinds of shit, to find a reason to be genuinely happy about things, like getting his hands on the Colt again, and it never ceased to be able to pull a smile from Sam in return.

Days later as Sam raced in desperation from Sheriff Bishop’s house back to the meat packing plant to try to find Dean, thoughts of losing Dean again ran panicking through his mind like a stampede that couldn’t be quieted. He couldn’t stop his body from shaking and trembling as it had all those years ago whenever he thought of Dean’s deal and his impending death.

Sam would pay whatever price to save his brother.  That fact was what Dean had once called their weakness.  That they were each other’s everything and monsters would always use that against them.  But they were well past trying to stop that or keep that from happening. Now that they were together sexually, it caused that to be even more of a truth than at any other time in their history.  But Sam didn’t see it as a weakness.  He saw it as their greatest strength, the fact that they would stop at nothing to always get to the other, had kept each of them going in the face of insurmountable odds on numerous occasions.

Sam became so angry when he saw the Colt in Pete’s hand.  The man that dared to capture Dean and try to sacrifice him to a god, it made Sam’s blood boil.  Sam shot him where he stood over the Sheriff before Pete could use the Colt. 

He then grabbed the gun up and raced to the freezer where Dean had to be.  He blew the lock open with his own gun and charged into the room blindly, not knowing what he would face other than just knowing he had to get to Dean.  He barely took two steps into the room before blasting the god with the Colt.  True to its legend, it killed Moloch just as easily as it had taken out the Alpha Vampire a few weeks earlier, and Azazel a decade before.

Dean always thought Sam was hot.  No matter what the scenario, no matter what Sam was doing, it was just an unyielding truth that Dean desired Sam no matter the situation.  But seeing his brother storming into danger, the Colt held out in front of him in his left hand and killing Moloch dead without even blinking was one of the hottest things Dean had ever witnessed.  He wanted desperately to be able to do something about that fact, but he had taken quite a beating from the god and couldn’t even keep his head up for a more than a few minutes before they left the plant.

That didn’t stop him from making flirty remarks and innuendos the entire drive home.  But his head was throbbing way too much to follow through with anything, although he verbally assured Sam just how much he wanted to remedy that as soon as his head stopped feeling like a punching bag.

In spite of all the sexual insinuations, they were both more quiet than usual on the drive home.  Sam was thankful that he had not been too late to save Dean.  Close calls like that didn’t usually get to him and make him feel so maudlin.  But since the flashbacks about Dean’s time in hell had been on his mind and had already made him feel more vulnerable than usual, it didn’t really surprise Sam that he was having a hard time with this.

Dean’s quiet reserve wasn’t just from being disgruntled that he couldn’t take advantage of Sam the way he wanted because of his injury. His mind kept circling around about what crazy Pete had said about family legacy and Sheriff Bishop had explained about wanting to change that legacy from one of hurting people for gain to helping people to make up for it.

It had set Dean’s mind stirring around about the idea of the Winchester legacy.  They had been surprised when they found out that they were Men of Letters legacy members.  They hadn’t known about the Cambell’s hunter legacy until they were both adults and already hunters themselves. At one time both he and Sam had tried to make lives and families with women.  But even before they had become lovers, the brothers were dedicated to each other above all else.  That kept a future family with children kind of legacy out of the cards for the brothers and neither wanted to even step down that path anymore.  They were where they belonged, together, as hunters, lovers, and brothers, but what did that mean for the future?

When he asked Sam if he thought people would remember them in a hundred years once they were gone, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when Sam flatly stated no.  Dean looked around at the bunker as Sam spoke about their legacy being to leave the world a better place than they had found it.  He thought of the bunker as home in a way he hadn’t thought of anywhere since their first home in Lawrence that had burned with their mother.  Baby had been their home, and always would be as far as he was concerned. He thought about all that they had had with Baby, why it had always felt like safety and where their family belonged.  Then he thought of the bunker.  Thought of how much he loved having a safe place to be with Sam, to nest and have war councils, making plans and holing up during the bad times. This was their place as much as Baby was. 

That was when the idea came to Dean.  They had made Baby theirs, his and Sam’s when they were both still tiny, barely old enough to be able to handle the knives with which they had carved their initials into her to prove she would always be theirs.  He pulled his knife out of his pocket and answered Sam’s question about what he was doing with “Leaving our mark.” As he began carving his initials into the wood of the table, Sam watched in reverence, remembering Dean doing the same to Baby all those many years ago.  Sam’s heart filled to bursting with love for his brother.  In that instant, nothing else mattered.  It didn’t matter about legacy, about finding Kelly Kline and saving the world from Lucifer’s kid.  Nothing mattered except sharing this moment with his brother, his beloved, his everything. 

Neither man spoke of it, but the repeated action was one of the most moving experiences they had shared.  In a way it made them feel they had come full circle.  From the children they had been, handling things no child should have, to now being sons to a mother they had no right to have back after all this time.  Becoming lovers after all the years of wanting and needing that, but being too scared to admit it for fear of losing each other, had helped them find the home they so desperately had longed for all their lives.  They were finally able to be the soulmates they had always been destined to be without knowing that is where they were to end up.

Seeing their initials carved together somehow felt like an oath.  It felt like a right of passage, securing that this place wasn’t just theirs, it was theirs together.  It was a vow of sorts, a vow to each other, a vow that their futures were inevitably intertwined.  That they stood together, in the face of whatever would come.  That their futures were inescapably combined as much as their pasts had been.

That night as they lay in bed, limbs twisted together as only theirs would fit from years of practice as children, finding their way again from memory to comfort and protect, Sam startled Dean from near slumber with a full body laugh.

“What the hell Sammy?” Dean was still disgruntled from Sam refusing sex on the account that he was convinced Dean had a concussion. 

“I was wrong Dean.” He managed around chuckles.

Dean turned until he could better make out Sam’s profile in the darkened room.

Sam snickered under his breath as he continued. “We do have a legacy and we will be remembered for years to come.”

“Did you drink more than I realized Sam?” Dean couldn’t figure out what Sam was going on about.

“Chuck’s books.” Sam snorted.  “The Winchester Gospels as he called them.” Sam barely contained his hysterics.

“Those Supernatural pulp fictions of his will be how we are remembered.” He grabbed Dean and held on as Sam gave his body over to being wracked in fits of laughter.

“Son of a Bitch!” Dean growled in dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not quite sure how I feel about this chapter. I loved some of the aspects of the episode this is mostly based on, but my chapter itself feels almost like a filler. I hate that it feels that way to me. The story deserves more, but the episodes leading up to the end of the season are difficult for me to dig into for some reason. The scene at the end where they were carving their initials was so significant to me that I had to do something with it, but it doesn't really feel like this chapter did it justice. I hope you all enjoy it more than I am feeling for it at the moment.


	21. Betrayal, Manipulation and Stolen Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds a solution to the Nephilim problem, but then Castiel creates so many more. Dean has a hard time dealing with his emotions about it all, so they try to lose themselves in a case which goes horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I combined two episodes in this chapter because I felt they worked well together. Lots of angst in this one folks. Not that angst is a surprise for any Supernatural fan.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Please let me know if you see any so that I can fix them and make this better for everyone.

Dean sat across from Sam in the library of the bunker and marveled at his brother’s brilliance.  Sammy had always been smart.  He could see his way out of just about any puzzle they came up against, but this Nephilim issue had had him stumped for a while.  They had argued around in circles about killing Kelly Kline and Sam would have none of it.  She and her baby were both innocent as far as he was concerned and if there was one line the Winchesters didn’t cross, it was that they didn’t kill innocents, they protected them, whatever the cost, that was their job.

Dean had acquiesced weeks ago because once Sam had something like that dug in, there was no getting around it.  But up until now, in the face of Sam’s self imposed hard and fast rule, there was no solution to be had.  Today Sam had found the answer.  Dean wasn’t surprised, he knew if there was a way, Sam would find it, but he couldn’t help but be amazed by his brother’s mind and heart and the goodness that came attached to his stubbornness. 

Sam’s smile beamed brightly from having figured out how to save both Kelly and her baby by doing the spell to withdraw the grace from the child so that only the human part would remain and wouldn’t be a danger to anyone anymore.  Dean’s eyes roamed over Sam as he watched with relish the relief spread across Sam’s face and his entire demeanor lightened.  Dean marveled at how beautiful Sam was.  He was always so, but when he smiled, when he was truly happy, there was nothing on this earth that compared to watching Sam in that instant.

Dean was on cloud nine as he walked to Cass’s room.  All the fear he had been holding back for weeks, at not knowing where the angel was, had flown away at seeing him walk through the bunker door earlier that morning.  Fury had immediately flooded in to take its place because he was Dean Winchester and that was how he dealt with his emotions.  Anger had always been his go to response when he was afraid, but none of that mattered now that Cass was back.  They had talked it out. He had explained to the angel how much his disappearance and silence had worried Dean, and Cass seemed truly sorry for what he had put them through.  He couldn’t blame Cass for feeling like a failure and needing a win about the Nephilim situation but Dean had to make him understand that he couldn’t go off like that and leave the brothers in the dark.  It seemed like Cass had understood and all was back to being good between them.

Dean couldn’t wait to fill Cass in on Sam’s genius solution and get the ball rolling on a plan of action.  He hadn’t been this together and focused in a long time.  Cass was back and safe, Sam had come through as only he could, and now things were finally looking up.

He knocked on his best friend’s door eager to praise his brother’s amazing mind.  And to gloat that Sam had accomplished yet again, what all the angels in heaven putting their fluffy heads together could not.  Silence met his knock.  Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion.  He knocked again and called out the angel’s name. Frustration pummeled passed his momentary happiness and threw his mind into chaos as he opened the door and saw the room dark and empty.

He cursed loudly all the way back to his own bedroom.  The Colt was gone.  Cass had played him.  A deluge of pain saturated his heart.  Dean had trust issues for miles, and Cass had twisted right past them.  In spite of everything Dean had trusted Cass, over and over, despite Cass’s poor choices at every turn, Dean had believed him and his apology.  He wanted to rip the angel apart and make him hurt like he was hurting.  He couldn’t believe what a fool he had been.  He tried calling the angel.  Hoping beyond hope that there was some kind of misunderstanding and what had just happened wasn’t what it looked like.

The fact that Cass wouldn’t answer his call solidified Dean’s rage into a cold mass in the pit of his stomach. He angrily explained to Sam what had happened, trying his best to ignore Sam’s exasperation when he found out that Dean had been sleeping with the colt under his pillow instead of in the safe.  He wouldn’t acknowledge it, or what a mistake it had been.

What should have been a celebratory time together was now turning into a plan for an angel hunt.  If Cass wouldn’t explain himself to them, they would find him and make him do so.  Thanks again to Sam’s quick thinking, they now had a way to follow the deceitful angel with a tracker on his phone.

They found his truck outside a motel.  Dean could barely hold back when Cass had the audacity to answer the door pointing the Colt in Dean’s face. He rushed in and would have begun pummeling Cass if Sam hadn’t pointed out Kelly hiding in the bathroom doorway.

All the anger seemed to seep out of him at that moment.  He wasn’t sure why, but he was just tired.  Tired of Cass working seemingly against them.  Even when Cass explained that he was doing it to keep them safe, keep them from having to make the tough calls and hard decisions, Dean couldn’t really muster up anything more than frustration at Cass’s choices.  They didn’t need to be protected, he just wanted his friend to stop cutting him out.  Every choice Cass was ever faced with, he seemed to make the wrong decision.  Every damn time.  Dean could see the desperation in Cass.  The need to make things right after everything that had gone wrong.  He knew Cass felt like it was all his fault.  In a lot of ways the mess they were in could be laid at the angel’s feet.  But playing the blame game wouldn’t solve anything. 

He just wanted to get Cass and Kelly back to the bunker and get a real plan going.  Not this seemingly endless chasing of each other and working antithetically when they all really wanted the same thing.  They wanted to end the danger to the world doing the least amount of harm in the process.

After Kelly had absconded with Cass in the Impala stranding them with the broken down truck at the motel, Dean couldn’t believe he was the one defending Cass’s actions to Sam.  But he understood.  Everything that had happened this year Cass felt was his fault.  He was so desperate, he was making even worse choices than he normally did, which were usually dismal under the best of circumstances.

They had to get to the sandbox and stop Kelly from killing herself and her child.  There was a better way now, they just had to convince her to listen to reason.

By the time they got to the sandbox, however, Dagon was there, kicking Castiel’s ass.  The boys flew out of the truck guns blazing but they proceeded to get their asses handed to them too.  Dean lay on the ground in horror watching as Dagon melted his beloved Colt into pieces.

Both brothers slumped wounded on the ground where Dagon had flung them, able to do nothing but observe powerlessly as she went in for the coup de grace to end Cass once and for all. Miraculously, somehow Cass not only stopped her, but caused her to burn to ash before their disbelieving eyes.

The boys managed to get up and make their way over to Castiel.  Both were confused and full of trepidation at what they had witnessed.  Dean had heard the tone in Castiel’s voice before.  When he was filled with belief in something greater than himself, when he had unwavering faith, his voice was full of awe and quiet certainty.  It made Dean’s blood run cold.  Nothing good ever came from Cass sounding like that.  Whatever the Nephilim had done to him had to be stopped or reversed.  They had to convince Cass to take a beat and think about what he was saying.  The fact that he suddenly believed the Nephilim had to be born, had to be protected, it was crazy.  It was Lucifer’s child and would burn the world if it could.  Castiel had been convinced of that fact himself only moments before.

Dean watched in disbelief as Cass knocked Sam out with a mere touch.  But before he could manage any defense, Cass had done the same to him.

Dean was extremely quiet after they regained consciousness.  He was lost in his head and try as Sam might, he couldn’t get Dean to open up.  Sam could tell Dean was hurting.  Cass had made boneheaded mistakes before but for some reason, this time really had gotten to Dean.  Sam knew it was because Dean felt Cass had come into their home and betrayed him right to his face.  But there seemed to be more to this than anger.

They both had a fitful night sleep of only a few hours.  They found themselves in the library, Sam sitting at the table, Dean behind him sitting on the steps. Dean was finally able to open up to Sam while his back was to him.  It made it easier somehow to begin when Sam wasn’t examining his every move, watching his every expression.

He had never really opened up to Sam about his friendship with Castiel.  It had always seemed like a sore spot for Sam, knowing that Cass felt a special connection to Dean.  Sam had seemed to come to terms with it better since they had begun the sexual side to their relationship, but truth be told, since that had happened, Cass hadn’t really been around all that much, and when he was, they were running from one emergency to the next without much time to talk.  Not to mention trying to hide their own changed relationship from the angel, just gave no time to really expound on things about Cass. 

But what had happened last night really weighed heavy on Dean.  He needed to talk it out with Sam.  He tried to explain the struggle he was having over what was bothering him.  When Dean said “Last night, when I looked at him, I did not recognize the guy staring back at me,” unexpressed emotion churned beneath Dean’s angry frustrated countenance. 

Sam could feel his hurt, his confusion, but most of all, his fear.  Sam remembered what it was like when Dean came back from Purgatory without Cass.  How it had eaten him up until the angel came back.  Sam didn’t know how to help his brother.  He had no answers as to how to make things better. They had already done all he knew how to do to find Castiel.  The angel obviously didn’t want to be found. 

Sam knew from experience that Dean wanted to just focus on finding his friend.  That he wanted to keep beating his head against the wall about it and might easily slip down into despair, wallowing without an active plan to set into motion.  So Sam chose to try to distract him.  First with the broken Colt, and then with the case the witch twins called them in on.  He even stooped so low as to quote back the words to Dean that he had used on Sam to get him to agree to hunt with him again all those years ago back at Stanford. “Their mom’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a week.”

The look of annoyed frustration on Dean’s face morphed into acceptance at that.  Sam knew in spite of his reluctance to stop rolling around in circles about Castiel, Dean wouldn’t deny him with that logic.  It was a low blow on his part, but he was doing it to give Dean something to focus on other than his fear about Cass.  At Dean’s agreement, Sam headed to his room to pack up what they would need for the witch hunt.

Dean hadn’t realized how troubled he was with what was happening with Castiel, and how powerless he felt, until he found himself calling his mom for help.  He was back to feeling like a lost little boy and he hated the level of angst and need that exuded through his voice when he was leaving his message for her.  He felt disgusted at his weakness and hated himself for it. 

He turned it into frustration towards Mary.   She, like Castiel, kept letting him down every time he tried to trust.  He shook his head at himself, trying to mentally brush off the maudlin thoughts.  He straightened his shoulders from where they had slumped from the unanswered call to his mom.

He had to get his head back in the game.  They had a case, one Sam seemed determined to help with whether or not the kids’ mom was actually missing.  But at least moving and getting their gear into Baby and getting on the road gave him something to focus on other than being adrift in his own mind. 

He popped in an AC/DC tape and pushed his foot to the floor making Baby rumble and growl on her way out of the Men of Letters garage.

They found the kids’ mom all safe and sound at an inn in the city where she had been hunting a borrower witch.  While Sam was out getting vegan food that Dean had no desire to even look at, he made small talk with Tasha, the formerly missing woman.  The discussion about her kids, and his mom and dad caused Dean to slip back into a dark head space.  He kept checking his phone but his own mom was still silent.

He was saved from going down the path further into unhappy thoughts by Sam’s finding evidence that there might, in fact, actually be a case in spite of Tasha’s claims otherwise.  The brothers decided to go off on their own and check it out so that the witch clan could enjoy their time together.

As soon as Dean saw Tasha’s corpse lying on the table in the cellar with her heart ripped out, his own heart broke for the witch siblings.  He and Sam knew all too well the pain of losing a parent, especially the lone parent that has raised you all your lives. 

He didn’t have time to churn through those emotions though because Max came down the steps asking what kind of trouble they had found.  Sam made an attempt in vain to keep Max from seeing his mom.  Pain wafted from the male witch, followed by confusion and disbelief. The brothers looked at each other with sadness and shared understanding at the overwhelming agony of his loss.

They couldn’t keep him from charging straight back up to the room where his sister was with whatever the thing that had masqueraded as his mother was.  He used his magic to force it to reveal what was going on.  It pointed them in the direction of where the actual borrower witch was but when Dean and Max found her, things went completely awry.  Instead of attacking them as Dean had expected, she offered Max her power.  She tempted him with the ability to have his mom forever, or at least the simulation of his mom that he had been conversing with since getting into town.

Max would have taken the deal too, in spite of it coming at a great cost, if Dean hadn’t ended the witch before it was too late.  However it wasn’t in time to save Alicia, Max’s sister.  Sam and Dean stood powerless again as Max’s abject torment flowed viscerally throughout the room.  To lose his mother was hard enough but to lose her and his sister all in the same small span of time, it was too much for anyone to handle.  His heart was breaking before their eyes and there was nothing they could do except bear witness to it.

Max didn’t want them to stay to help him burn the bodies.  Both brothers thought it was a mistake to leave him by himself to have to carry that burden alone, but he would brook no arguments on the subject.

That left them to have to drive home with a painful heaviness between them.  They had both had to burn their father, Bobby, and Charlie but they had carried those hardships together.  Max was alone.  It didn’t feel right to either of them, but they had to respect his wishes. 

As the rumble of Baby making her way down the highway surrounded them and cradled them, all the misery of their shared losses pooled awkwardly in the thick silence of the car.

Sam tried to comfort Dean by assuring him that he made the right choice by killing the witch.  But Dean’s self loathing was in full swing.  He questioned the fact that he even had the right to make that decision for Max.  Sam felt it was the only just and good decision, but Dean thought back to how many sacrifices he had made to save Sam.  How he had sold his soul to bring him back, how he had gladly gone to hell, to keep Sam safe.  How Sam had cut out little pieces of himself to find Dean when he was a demon and bring him back.  He inadvertently sacrificed Charlie and loosed the Darkness upon the world just to free Dean from the Mark of Cain.  What price wouldn’t they pay to keep each other safe?  Who was he to make that choice for Max?

He tried putting all that into words, but his emotions overwhelmed him.  He couldn’t see his way clear to explain well enough to make Sam understand. Sam tried again to soothe him, but Dean just lapsed into silent miserable contemplation.

Once he realized there was no pulling Dean out of this dark spiral he was going down, Sam gave into his own exhaustion.  He felt the loss as heavy as Dean did.  He was worried about Cass too and had no idea what to do about the impending birth of the Nephilim into the world.  The joy he had felt just two days earlier at coming up with a solution had melted so quickly he had emotional whiplash.  He had been watching Dean all day, trying to keep him distracted from his worry about Castiel, but to no avail.  Dean was now more miserable than he had been before this horrible failure of a hunt.  It all came down hard on Sam’s shoulders and he found solace against the window of Baby.  She rocked him to sleep as she had thousands of nights before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kudos and comments. This has been such a remarkable experience for me. I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed the process so much more because of you all. I really hated episode 20 when it aired. But I found a deeper thread that I could run through it when it was paired with Dean's emotions from episode 19. I hope you enjoy my take on them.
> 
> I am beginning to get a little sad about this story coming to an end. There isn't much left and I find it is harder to contemplate ending it than I had expected because I have loved telling this story so much. 
> 
> I know there are so many more stories to be told about the brothers and who knows what Season 13 will bring, but this has been a very special process for me since it was my first real fanfiction endeavor. You all have been wonderful and I cannot thank you enough.


	22. Doomed and Embattled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get trapped in the bunker with no hope of escape. I am sure it is no surprise to anyone that they escape. This is all about the emotions they go through in that process and then the start of what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long for an update. The episode "Who We Are" was my favorite of the season, possibly of the last two seasons. So it was really difficult for me to write about it for some reason.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd. So please be sure to let me know if you see any mistakes, that way I can fix them and make it better for everyone.

Dean held his gun to Ketch’s neck in the bunker across from Sam, who stood using Lady Bevell’s body as a shield with his own gun pointed at Ketch. Dean demanded Ketch tell them where their mom was.  Lady Bevell’s taunts from the car ride earlier about their mom having sex with Ketch, and being a full member of the British Men of Letters, and one of their best killers, echoed like a ghost inside Dean’s head keeping him in panic mode.

The icy stone that had been clunking around inside Dean’s stomach for over a week, since his mom’s mysterious message and disappearance, melted when he saw Mary walk up the steps behind Sam and enter the standoff.  Not only was she alive, but she had perfect timing.  She would finish the standoff and finally help them get to the bottom of what the British Men of Letters were up to.

Dean’s relief turned to horror as she fired her gun above his head and made it clear that she was on Ketch’s side of the fight.  Dean was so stunned Ketch got his gun away from him easily. Shock and disbelief flooded hard through Dean as he watched Mary point the gun at him.  It was nothing compared to the betrayal of witnessing her turn the gun towards Sam, making him surrender his gun too.

Sam’s heart broke hearing Dean beg as their mother stood looking down on them from the landing by the main door of the bunker, a gun pointed at each of her sons. Dean begged for her to snap out of it, to see that it was them, asking desperately what was wrong with her. 

Mary was unmoved by Dean’s pleas.  Sam watched his mom’s face remain resolute and neutral as Ketch described how they had set the bunker up as the boys’ tomb.  She looked no more interested than if he was reciting the weather for the upcoming week.  No one observing her would have guessed that she was actively taking part in the death of her two sons, standing guard as they were entombed alive underground in an impenetrable bunker. 

Sam didn’t attempt to stop Dean as he raced up the steps to try to get to the door before it was locked for good.  His banging on the door and scream of “Mom” tore at Sam’s heart, but did no good to stop the inevitable.  The bunker’s electricity went out, leaving only the flashing red emergency lighting, making the entire place look eerily like the deathtrap that it was. His heart sank as he heard the audible reversing of the bunker’s air system.

As the reality of their situation set in, each Winchester tried to stay positive for the other.  They had been in much worse situations than this and had come out okay, if perhaps not unscathed. It would be the same this time, at least they had to believe that to be true.  They just had to put their heads together and figure it out.

Dean was unsurprised that it took Sam’s brilliant mind less than ten minutes to figure out that they could use magic to reverse the lockdown of the bunker somehow.  It was just a matter of finding a spell that would work.  Again it came as no shock to Dean that Sam found a solution after just a few hours of reading through the occult books.  Dean saw Lady Bevell’s amazement as Sam explained his two step hybrid magic plan.  Pride blossomed hot across his chest thinking about how easily Sam outshined her intellect in the face of her arrogance. 

Dean hated her for what she had done to Sam and now to their mom, but he had to swallow that down if they were ever to get out of here and get their mom back to normal. She was the only hope they had of the latter, and as long as she didn’t get in the way of the former, he could find the strength to put up with her.  The fact that Sam, with “no formal training” in the Brits estimation, solved the problem in a way she would never have thought of made Dean all kinds of happy and he would be rubbing it in the bitch’s face as soon as they were free. Those bragging plans were dashed, however, when it became clear that Ketch had somehow warded the bunker against magic being used to get past the lockdown.

By the next day they were all desperate to get free.  Dean’s patience was wearing thin and he decided they had no more time to study their way out of the mess.  He declared that brute force was the solution.  Sam watched his brother as he explained his plan with the blueprints. 

Dean always underestimated his own mind when it came to things like this.  He only thought of himself as a blunt instrument, but Sam knew better.  Sam saw Dean as he really was.  Under the bravado and pop culture references, was a complex and beautiful mind that could see through difficult situations and figure out solutions that book research would never point to. Sam would love Dean no matter what, on any given day, for no reason at all other than who he was, but when Dean allowed his intellect to show like this, it made it blindingly clear why Dean was the love of Sam’s life.  He was the entire package, brains, brawn, beauty, he was everything to Sam. He was sure Dean would be the key to getting them safely out of this mess, as he had been so many other times before.

Try as they might, both brothers putting their not insignificant amount of strength, energy and stamina into pickaxing their way through the wall, they could not break out.  Not in time before they would run out of air.  Taking a rest with their sweaty backs against the wall, feeling the air grow thinner with each breath, the boys couldn’t help but think this was the end.

Sam was bitter about having swallowed the British Men of Letter’s rhetoric, hook, line, and sinker.  He felt all of this was his fault.  That Dean would have never fallen for this, and didn’t, he only followed where Sam led.  The irony to that was that Sam had chosen to believe in what the British Men of Letters were doing in order to not have to lead.  He for once in his life wanted to just be the good soldier and go where he was pointed, because it was easier than leading the charge. 

His eyes welled up when he explained this to Dean. Dean was surprised to hear the frankness about not wanting to lead.  One of the main problems with their dad, from as far back as he could remember, stemmed from Sam seeing a better way to do things.  The fights that became endless, as soon as Sam was old enough to hunt, were all based in Sam’s ability to plan and assess situations better than their old man. 

Sam was a natural born leader and had never had a chance to really come into his own with it.  Dean had always believed that about his brother, but out of selfishness, he kept that insight to himself.  He had always been fearful if Sam had known his true potential, it would have driven him off to who knows where, to lead who knew what, as he had been on the path to do at Stanford until Dean had come for him.  Dean had needed Sam by his side, always had, always would, even if that always was only a few more hours in this dark hole that now surrounded them.  He couldn’t bring himself to be sorry for his selfishness.  Especially with what Sam was saying now about his willingly following the Brits.

Looking into the inevitability of death, especially after Billie was gone, leaving their future unknown after they crossed over, Dean couldn’t be sorry for anything except not having more time with his brother.  Although as he thought of it, if he lived to be 120 years old, it would never be enough time with his brother.

The certainty of their deaths loomed over them, settling the boys into a shared sadness.  Sam asked Dean if this was how he pictured them dying.  Dean told him it wasn’t, that he had always pictured them as Butch and Sundance.  But it wasn’t until he heard Sam say “going out in a blaze of glory,” that inspiration struck Dean once again and made him have hope that maybe this wasn’t the end for them after all.

Lady Bevell’s outrage made Dean smile even wider as he shouldered the grenade launcher he had had for over a decade waiting for just the right use.  It had become a running joke for Sam to tell Dean that he couldn’t use it in different situations.  She was right however. This idea would either save them, or get them killed.  But Dean was never one to shy away from something just because he might die from it. 

He and Sam smiled widely at each other.  They were on the path to a quick and pretty painful death if they didn’t do something immediately.  Neither could think of a better idea and it seemed to Dean that Sam was just as eager to see him finally get to use the beautiful piece of death he had been carrying around in Baby forever.  They truly had nothing to lose, so as soon as Sam was out of harm’s way as much as possible Dean aimed and shot the launcher with glee.

Sam went to check on Dean after the explosion.  It had made a perfect hole in the wall and the access ladder in the sewer pipe was visible.  It wasn’t until the tunnel collapsed and blocked the way to Dean that Sam truly began to panic.  He had heard nothing from his brother after the explosion.  It was obvious that he had survived the blast and had to be in the pipe, but was he still inside when it collapsed?

Sam yelled Dean’s name over and over, as he made his way haltingly to the map room, but the explosion had taken with it the last of the breathable air.  He gasped harshly, falling to his knees and then collapsing completely, realizing with dread that he might never see his brother again.  His last thought was that Dean might already be dead, and he would soon follow into the unknown, never stopping his search for his beloved.

Just as the pain in his chest was becoming unbearable from the lack of oxygen, the lights began to flicker and come back on, and then he could hear the fans reversing in the air system.  He breathed deeply the fresh air pouring back into the bunker, but relief didn’t sweep over him completely until he heard the outer door unlock at the top of the stair landing.  Dean was alive.  He was such a beautiful sight, Sam couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down his face.  Dean had once again saved his life, as he had been doing since the night Sam had turned six months old, when Dean took him in his arms, running with him out of the burning house to safety.

All Sam wanted to do was take Dean into his arms and curl up together.  But they had work to do.  They had to do something about Dean’s hurt leg but he insisted they only take time to wrap it up because other hunters could be dying right now.

Sam reluctantly acquiesced and they made a quick escape out to the fresh air in Baby, keeping Lady Bevell handcuffed to be safe.  Stopping by the river to call any hunters they could reach to warn them, they only managed to get Garth before Sam heard a message from Jody.  They had to leave immediately to get there because she had their mom captured waiting for them.  They were mostly silent on the drive there, neither man knowing how to handle the situation, but both relieved that at least she was safe and not able to hurt anyone else at the moment.

Dean was beginning to get emotional whiplash.  He had a hard time taking in what Lady Bevell had to say about his mom’s brainwashing being irreversible.  Dean didn’t believe in impossibilities, together he and Sam always proved there was no such thing, but he was exhausted.  And seeing the thing sitting in his mom’s body, knowing that there was no demon in there, there was no monster to fight, only his mom’s mind hiding behind impenetrable walls, it made him sick to his stomach.  Her taunting made it even worse. 

In situations like this, Dean loved to hit things.  But he couldn’t beat his mom, no matter how much her smirking made him want to. She was right though with the vicious verbal barb of “Am I too different from the Mary you know, or too much the same?” The coldness did remind him a lot of her real self.  She had been distant and absent for so much of the time since she had gotten back from heaven.  But in one of her last messages to him before the brainwashing had happened she had said she was sorry for all that.  That she wanted to be here for the two of them as a mom.

He swallowed all that down and decided to take his anger out on her majesty Lady Bevell.  He could hurt her all he wanted.  As he was about to force her into the back yard to kill her uppity ass, Sam stopped him, explaining that they could fight back against the Brits, that the US hunters could take the fight to them and end this once and for all.  Dean still wanted to kill her, but that could wait.  He would hear his brother out.

The plan came together pretty quickly.  They discussed who to call and how to get them all gathered at Jody’s in order to see who they could convince to help them storm the castle and clean the Brits out of their nest.

There was a nervous energy running throughout Jody’s house as the hunters began to arrive.  No one really knew what was going on, as most had come on faith that the Winchesters could be trusted and if they said there was big trouble then you didn’t turn them down.

A chill ran up Sam’s spine as Walt and Roy came in the door.  He and Dean hadn’t seen them since they killed the Winchesters seven years ago.  It was because of them that the boys had gone to heaven.  It had been the first time that Sam had heard someone say that he and Dean were soul mates in not so many words. He had always felt that himself secretly, but when Ash had explained that soul mates shared a heaven, and obviously Sam and Dean shared their heaven, it had rocked Sam to think it might not just be his opinion.  In some ways it had made it harder to fight his secret longings to be with Dean back then, but deep down it made it easier somehow too, to know that even if he could never be with Dean the way he wanted, his soul was connected to his brother deeper than he had hoped to imagine. 

Sam drew upon that connection, that love he knew he shared with Dean, to give him strength and courage for what was going to come next.  He began to explain the plan to the room full of hunters, using the words he had always used, “My brother and I.”

He paused and swallowed.  Sam thought about what they had just gone through, about their talk in the bunker and his confession about not wanting to lead.  His fear ramped up, what if he wasn’t good enough, what if he wasn’t strong enough of smart enough for these people to follow him? He took a deep breath and stepped away from Dean, stepped farther into the room alone.  He took ownership of his mistake at following along with the Brits.  He explained that they were killing US hunters and how wrong he had been about them.  Then he asked the hunters to follow him, to battle against their mutual enemy before that enemy could wipe them out.

Sam’s nerves were frayed by the end of his speech.  He was sweating and shaking, but he had stood his ground.  To his surprise the hunters had all agreed.  They made quick work of putting the final touches on the plan together and began to move out of the room and gear up.

Dean listened to Sam with pride and respect.  He realized with a jolt that he might not see Sam again after the fight.  That this was the first significant battle he was going to watch Sam go off to alone, by his own choice.  His heart hurt at the thought.  It had been his job since he was four years old to take care of Sam and the only way he could do that right now was to stay behind.  With his leg messed up he was a liability in the melees to come and Sam couldn’t afford to watch out for him.  It was going to take every ounce of concentration on all the hunters’ parts to win the day against the better equipped, better trained Brits.  Sam, especially, needed to be completely clear headed in order to lead his first war strike and he couldn’t be that if Dean was there and not one hundred percent physically capable.

He knew Sam would argue against the decision.  As Sam’s face crumpled in confusion when Dean explained he wasn’t going and why, it ripped at Dean’s heart to be doing this.  He knew Sam meant it with every fiber of his being when he said “I’ll take a jacked up Dean Winchester over any ten other hunters any day,” with his voice breaking at the end.  But Dean had to stand his ground.  In the face of the pain it put on Sam, it was hard for Dean to do so, but he couldn’t afford to be Sam’s weakness today.  His not being there might be the difference in the fight, might be the thing that allows Sam to come back to him afterwards.  He had to believe that, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to watch his love walk out the door to an uncertain fate.

It caught Sam off guard.  Brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t believe Dean was not going to be with him in this battle.  Sam was scared.  This decision, it shook Sam.  He didn’t know what he was without Dean by his side, that was Dean’s place, always had been.   It was one thing to be a leader of men as long as Dean had his back, but the thought of Dean purposefully staying behind unsettled him. Yes, he was injured, and it was a significant wound, but Dean’s meaning in life had always been to protect Sam, no matter the cost to Dean’s person or soul.  The times they had gone off into this kind of danger alone were so few they could be counted on one hand, and most of the time like Dean being a bomb for the Darkness, and Sam becoming Lucifer’s vessel, it was end of the world consequences if they didn’t do what they did.  And even then, the boys had fought each decision with a vengeance.

Dean saw Sam’s indecision.  Read his fear.  He tried to calm himself.  He tried to put every bit of love and respect and pride he had for Sam into his face and his voice when he said, “I saw you, you’re ready for this.”

It struck Sam deep in his heart.  He took in the calm strength of Dean’s countenance.  He felt Dean’s surety and belief in him.  He wanted to be the person Dean believed him to be.    He tried to put his own fears aside and focus on Dean.  It was Dean’s mission in life to protect him and look after him, so for Dean to not do that, there was a purpose.  He studied Dean’s face, tried to read what was going on with him, but in the end, decided he trusted Dean above all things. If Dean thought this was the right play, then it was, plain and simple.  Sam just had to trust himself now, as much as he trusted Dean.

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and asked what Dean was going to do.  His breath caught with Dean’s reply.  He had thought their mom was a lost cause, but again, Dean’s surety made the possibility for hope of finding a solution, getting her back, a real potential.  Sam knew if there was a way, Dean would find it.  It made him happy to think that Dean wouldn’t be sitting around worrying about him and the war to come.  That Dean would have a purpose to get him through the time while Sam was in danger.  It also made Sam’s heart hurt a little less thinking that with Dean finding a way to save their mom, if something happened to Sam and he wasn’t able to come back, at least Dean wouldn’t be alone, if her mind was her own.

The boys looked at each other.  They both fought to hold back the pain of stepping away from the other.  Their lives were always in danger.  They never knew from one moment to the next if they would survive any of what they faced daily.  But this parting was significant in so many ways.  They each had an important mission, but their hearts would be with the other. Sam was stepping into a new role and Dean was letting him do that alone.  They had always respected each other, but as the older brother, in many ways Dean had always held a leadership role between them.  This signified a changing.  This made them equals in a way nothing else had. 

They hugged and it seemed as intense as their first and possibly their last, which was always how their embraces of hello or goodbye felt. They took nothing about the situation for granted, wishing only that they could spend a few moments together alone.  But they both knew that if they got to be alone they might never part.

Sam took a deep breath, turned on his heel and didn’t look back as he left the house.  Dean’s head was down, bowed in a prayer to a god he knew wasn’t listening.  He couldn’t bear to watch Sam walk away, didn’t manage to look up until the door closed loudly behind his brother.

He gave himself no time to think, just moved on to the task ahead.  The job of saving his mom, if it was possible, was squarely on his shoulders. He couldn’t think about anything else right now, otherwise he would limp out the door as quick as his hurt leg would carry him and follow his brother into the breach, which was where his heart was already.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have most of the next chapter finished so it shouldn't be long for it to get published. If I have estimated correctly there should only be one more chapter after that. So it looks like the story will be 24 chapters long. However the boys do surprise me sometimes so it might end up being 25. I don't think it will be longer than that.
> 
> I can't tell you how much your comments and kudos have meant to me. This process has been a labor of love and I am astonished that it is almost finished. It will free me up to write more smaller things about the Winchesters and maybe even other fandoms that I love. Thank you for your support and for staying with me through the drought times between chapters.


	23. Memories of Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean deep dives into his mom's mind. He is trying to save her but he ends up freeing himself in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was one of the most enjoyable to write. It is a continuation of the action from Who We Are, which as I said before is my favorite episode in the season. It turns out it is so much my favorite that writing about it will span three chapters in this story. 
> 
> This is as always unbeta'd so please point out any mistakes so I can fix them and make the story more enjoyable for everyone.

One minute Dean was sitting across from his mom in the bunker, electrodes on their foreheads, and the next he was in his dad’s old recliner in their house in Lawrence.  His leg was no longer damaged.  He walked around the house, everything eerily familiar.  His attention was called back to the living room when he heard a baby, his baby brother in fact, cry out.  It was surreal to see Sam that way, so innocent, without any of life’s horrors having affected him yet.

His mom walked in to comfort Sam.  It was like a steel beam punctured right through his chest.  Seeing her as she was when he was four, as he had idolized her to be all these years, since before meeting the real Mary Winchester and realizing she wasn’t his blessed saint of a mom, just a woman, flawed and faulty, damaged and betraying. The dichotomy of seeing the icon of his childhood while being aware of trying to save the reality from herself made Dean’s head swim with long repressed memories and emotions.

The years he spent as a child, trying to take care of Sam when his dad was too drunk or too involved with a hunt, ran through his mind.  Learning in a hurry to not let his feeling sad or missing his mom show, because that just made his dad more miserable, more distant, more angry.  So he had hidden his pain behind jokes, trying to make Sammy laugh.  He filled his days with all things Sam, to keep his own mind occupied so that it didn’t wander to kisses on the forehead before bed, or being cuddled because of skinned knees.  All that he had repressed was brought crashing down from the distant past to rip his heart open at what he was witnessing in their old kitchen.

Calling out to his mom repeatedly and having her ignore him, while watching her being kind and sweet to his four year old simulacrum, was a gut punch that hurt all the way to his spine.

When he reached out and grabbed her arm, begging her, demanding that she look at him, she pulled away from his touch with concerted effort.  It would have shocked him less if she had slapped him across the face.  He realized that she was choosing this.  Choosing to stay locked away with memories, instead of being with them.  This was just another layer of her walking away from the real versions of her boys, as she had time and time again since being brought back from Heaven.  It stunned him, freezing him in place momentarily with the painful comprehension.

As he watched the charade of her explaining to his younger self that she only wanted good things for him and promising that she would never let anything bad happen to him, it was too much.  He couldn’t keep the floodwalls of his emotions in check one moment longer.  He released the valve by simply, but earnestly, stating, “I hate you.”

Dean began recounting to his mom all that the Winchesters had faced from her decision.  How he had no childhood, how he had to be a father and a mother for Sam, to keep him safe, because of her choices, and how it wasn’t fair, and how he had failed in that mission.  He conveyed to her all that Sam had suffered, how he had been possessed by Lucifer, tortured in Hell, losing his soul in the process.  The tears welled in his eyes because he never stopped aching for all that Sam had endured.  All the things he had been powerless to protect Sam from.

Dean laid it all at her feet, where he felt the blame belonged, because all their combined misfortune stemmed from her original deal with Azazel. 

His tears began to fall as he expressed again “I hate you,” but then his voice broke as he said “I hate you, and I love you, cause I can’t help it.”  His throat became thick with his overwhelming emotions, making it harder to speak.  He thought back to his memories of her taking care of him when he was as young as the boy in front of him. 

He remembered what she had looked like in the past with their dad.  How much they had loved each other.  How scared she must have been at the thought of losing John forever.  He tried to imagine what it would be like, to have been in Heaven over thirty years with Sam, getting to love each other as they had the past few months, only without their lives being in constant peril.  Then to picture being ripped out of that bliss and thrown into a life where Sam was dead and there was no getting him back.  It was hard for him to breathe just thinking about it. 

As the tears poured down his face in rivulets, he looked at the woman that gave him his brother, the love of his life, and also gave them both the trauma and horrors of the paths their lives followed. 

The feelings all coalesced inside him.  He confessed, “I understand, because I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once.” 

His heart poured out through his tears as he remembered holding Sammy’s lifeless body in the mud, screaming to the sky.  He would have done anything in that moment to bring his beloved brother back.  He would have changed places with him in a heartbeat.  He got a year in the demon deal, but would have settled for a day, an hour, anything, just to know that Sam would be safe and alive again. 

His voice cracked as he quietly explained “I forgive you.” His chest felt like it split open and the bitterness and anger he had carried for months fell out.  He chuckled from the relief of it. “I forgive you, for all of it, for everything.” 

He felt light, free of all the heaviness he had borne, since seeing her barefoot in the grass, after Amara and Chuck had left.  All the animosity that had come from her return and his realization that she wasn’t the mom he had worshiped the memory of his entire life. 

He forgave all the pain, all the feelings of betrayal, all of it, and promised her they could start over, the three of them, as a family, but she had to fight.  He told her she had to fight, and look at him, and really see him.  He begged her with his heart as open as he could make it.

His fears and frustrations were alleviated finally when she turned, and after a hazy moment, she looked right at him with recognition and his name fell from her lips.  Relief blossomed from deep within his chest.  He couldn’t believe it had worked. His lips turned up to begin a smile but at that very moment he was yanked out of her mind and forced back into reality. 

He gazed around groggily trying to figure out what had happened, only to see Lady Bevell lying dead on the floor in a pool of her own blood.   He looked up to discover Ketch standing over him.

The fight between them broke most of the library furniture.  Dean managed to hold his own in spite of Ketch beating his damaged leg mercilessly over and over.  His mind was still foggy from the drugs and being ripped out of his mom’s unconscious, or he would have realized Ketch was pulling the gun before it was too late.  As it was, Ketch got the drop on him handily, and would have shot him dead if Mary hadn’t put a bullet in Ketch’s shoulder first.

Dean walked over to his mom and neither Winchester blinked as she pulled the trigger ending Ketch’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter will be the Sam part of the last half of Who We Are. It is 80 percent written already so it shouldn't be too long before I can get it published if life will just stay out of the way. Then I think one more chapter or so will do it. 
> 
> I can't thank you all enough for the kudos, comments and patience for this story. It has been a labor of love and I have enjoyed every single minute of writing and posting it for you.


	24. Stepping Out Into His Own, But With a Tethered Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam leads a team of hunters against the British Men of Letters. It is difficult without Dean there by his side, but Sam makes Dean proud. Dean never had any doubts that he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last part of the three chapters it took to write my views on Who We Are. This is all about Sam and the heaviness it took to step out on his own, but he is never really alone because his heart always carries Dean with him.
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd so if you see any mistakes, please let me know so I can make it better.

Sam drove Jody’s sheriff truck through the outer gate of the British Men of Letters’ headquarters as if he could bring the place down with sheer will.  He screeched to a halt and jumped out of the vehicle, shooting everything that moved.  His team took casualties before ever making it into the door, but Sam didn’t think about that, couldn’t think about it, left it compartmentalized for later, otherwise there would be no later if he went down that rabbit hole.

They systematically killed every Brit they came across.  They suffered more losses as they went, but Sam just kept pushing his team forward. He never allowed himself to stop or second guess, just moving to the next part of the compound onward, always onward. 

Both sides were hit hard. The hunters managed to take out every Brit until all that was left was Dr. Hess, but by then, the only other two left alive on Sam’s team were Jody and Walt.  Hess managed to lock herself inside the deepest recesses of one of the mini bunkers, but the door was no match for the explosives Sam had insisted they bring along.

The three of them backed her into a corner, no allies left except a disembodied voice coming through a laptop on the desk beside her.  Sam had thought there was nothing she could say to make him think twice about ending her, but that was before she showed him a folder with a group of pictures in it. 

Ice crawled up Sam’s spine as she explained that Lucifer was free from hell.  Fear tried to weave its way inside him, memories of being at Lucifer’s mercy scratched and clawed through his mind.  He swallowed hard.  She explained, with ever present superiority in her voice, that he was on Earth tracking Kelly Kline and Castiel, waiting to get his hands on his child once it is born. 

She threatened Sam with the repercussions of Lucifer’s succeeding, saying he couldn’t do this alone. She stated emphatically that the US hunters needed the British Men of Letters’ resources and help, now more than ever, in the face of what was to come.  Doubt tried to clamp down hard on Sam’s sense of purpose.  He felt Walt and Jody’s fear and confusion on either side of him, but also trust.  They were looking to him to call the play, to decide what to do next. 

He panicked for a few seconds, not knowing what to do, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, wishing to Heaven Dean was here.  He pictured Dean’s face before he had left Jody’s, his calm serene look of love and belief in Sam.  Dean seemed to believe with his entire being that Sam could do this, could make the right call. 

He closed his eyes and settled himself.  Digging deep and listening to his gut and his reason.  But truth be told, it was probably the snide voice on the other end of the computer that made it easier for him to find clarity.  The way the man called him “boy” so derisively, it made him think of all the ways Dean would want to kill whoever was on the other end of the call.  Sam didn’t care about what some faceless Brit thought of him, but he put a bullet in the laptop just to prove his point to Hess.

Sam determined that the American hunters had always gone their own way, this situation would be no different. They didn’t need the Brits telling them what to do or how to handle things, not in this, nor in any scenario.  He had faced Lucifer before and had come out the other side.  He and Dean could do it again, he had no doubt. 

He told Hess so, brooking no arguments. But before he could think about the options for what to do with her specifically, she made the next decision for him, by grabbing a gun.  Quicker than he could even think to raise his own, Jody had put a bullet in the British bitch’s brain.

There was nothing left of the British Men of Letters in the US once what was left of Sam’s team finished with it.  He was exhausted but elated.  Eager to get back to Dean and recount all that had happened.  He couldn’t wait to bask in the pride and love he knew would be glowing out at him through Dean’s emerald eyes.  He just wanted to get his hands on his brother.  To feel the connection and comfort Dean could provide.

He was worried too.  He had no idea if Dean had been successful.  He didn’t want to think of what kind of a wreck his brother would be if he hadn’t been.  He steadied his breathing and realized, together they would find a way.  If Dean hadn’t pulled their mom back by the time he got home, they would work on a plan together.  Once he thought about it though, he had little doubt about the success. If there was a way to save his family, no matter what from, Dean would always find it.

Walking down the hall of the bunker, he heard his mom’s voice.  She and Dean were speaking quietly together.  He paused just outside the entrance and listened.  He didn’t want to interrupt because it sounded like a moment they needed to have alone.  His mom’s voice was her own again, he could tell, even from where he stood.  She began to explain why she had been distant, how hard it was to be around them, and how much it hurt her to see the fallout of what she had done and the decisions she had made that shaped their lives before her death. She sounded truly remorseful about it all.

Sam could tell by what Dean was saying that he seemed better, more accepting of her, more loving towards her, than he had heard in Dean’s voice since she came back.  The last of what Dean said surprised Sam though.  That everything that had come before now had made them who they are and that they “kick ass.”  His brother took a breath and ended with “We save the world.” 

The pride in Dean’s voice made Sam smile, but then pain shot through his heart as a memory flashed in his mind’s eye.  The tone in Dean’s voice, the sure belief in ‘them’ reminded him of what Dean had said just before he died from Metatron’s blade three years ago, almost to the day.  Dean, battered and covered in his own blood, had touched Sam’s face softly, lovingly, and had murmured “I’m proud of us,” before slipping away.

Tears formed in Sam’s raw eyes as he swallowed the emotions down.  That time was long past.  They were both here now, safe and together, no need to dwell on losses from before.  He shook himself as he heard his mom say his own name.  She confessed to Dean her fear about what Sam’s reaction would be to her and what she had done.

Sam let his pent up tears and exhaustion flow as he walked around the corner.  He promised her that she didn’t have to be scared of him.  He took her in his arms and held her, letting his relief, that the fight with the Brits was over, escape out from behind the wall he had built, along with the sadness from all the hunters lost. The anguish of not knowing if he would see the real her again, and the hope he felt at having a chance to make things better with his mom flooded out too, and he poured it all into the hug he gave her.

He looked at Dean over her head.  Their eyes met and spoke volumes to each other through the silent exchange. He could tell Dean had been visually checking his body and stride to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He recognized that observing look from years of being examined after each hunt or time away from one another.  He could see tension leave Dean’s shoulders as he determined Sam was relatively undamaged.  His gazed shifted to Sam’s face, taking in every line and wrinkle that had been earned over the years together.  Finally he reached out and laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. 

All he managed to say was “I’m glad you’re back, man.” But it conveyed so much in ‘Dean speak’ that Sam couldn’t stop the tears from falling. As Sam watched, patiently waiting with longing on his face, Dean gave in and hugged him, one arm also around their Mom.  It wasn’t exactly what either of them wanted or needed, but they would take what they could get. 

They might have to be stealing moments a lot more often if she was going to be a significant presence in their lives from now on.  They were both so exhausted that that line of thinking could wait, would have to wait.  They were just so happy to have each other there, and safe and starting the healing process that they both so desperately needed with their mom.  All felt right in the world and they would take it, because they were the Winchesters after all, and the next emergency was probably barreling straight at them from an unknown source as they stood there, embracing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am surprised that my heart is heavy at this work coming to an end. When I wrote the last paragraph of this chapter, I thought, that would be a pretty decent ending to this story. But I have one more chapter to go in spite of that. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the support, kudos and comments. This work would never have made it to completion if it wasn't for you guys cheering me on. It truly made me keep going when it got hard. I can't thank you enough.
> 
> I will try to get the final chapter finished and up as soon as possible. I don't want to keep you waiting more than necessary for the conclusion to all this.


	25. What I Thought I Needed Most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the fighting with the British Men of Letters, the Winchester family comes to an unexpected understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the ending for my version of Season 12. It falls between Who We Are and All Along the Watchtower. It has lots of emotions and angsty goodness, with what I hope you will feel is a happy ending.
> 
> This chapter is actually beta'd. Many thanks go to my wonderful wife for reading this before I posted it, and helping me on this journey. But all mistakes are still entirely my own. 
> 
> As always, I request that if you see any mistakes that we didn't catch, please let me know so I can fix them and make this better.

Sam tossed and turned in his bed.  Since he and Dean had first gotten together sexually, he hadn’t been able to sleep very well without Dean next to him, arms wrapped around him from behind or his head resting on Dean’s chest.  It meant safety and comfort as nothing else in this world had ever meant to him. 

The three Winchesters had been physically and emotionally exhausted after their battles against the British Men of Letters so they had all turned in at the same time, all going to their separate rooms. But Sam hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep yet and it was 3am already.  He knew that lying in bed miserably staring at his ceiling fan would do no good so he got up and went to the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.  

The pot was already made and half missing by the time he got there.  That meant someone else in the bunker couldn’t sleep either.  He poured himself a cup and went in search of his sleepless family member.  He went to Dean’s room first and it was empty so that at least cleared up which person was awake. 

He walked around his brother’s usual haunts but he wasn’t in the gun range, nor in the library, although a half empty bottle of whiskey and an empty glass were on the main wooden table, the only one left standing in the aftermath of Dean’s fight with Ketch.  So his brother had been drinking heavily before switching to coffee.  That wasn’t a very good sign.

He would have gone to the garage next, to check Baby, but as he walked by the map table, he heard from above him, “heya Sam.”

His eyes went up to the small walkway at the top of the stairs and saw Dean seated with one leg curled up and his hurt leg outstretched, looking down at him, with his forehead leaning against the Art Deco ironwork railing.  He was sitting in the exact spot their mom had stood only days ago pointing guns down at them. 

It seemed like a lifetime ago with all that had happened since. 

Sam took a deep breath and began ascending the stairs to reach his other half, not knowing what Dean’s emotional state would be when he got there, but knowing he must have been open to having Sam there otherwise he would have just watched as he wandered around looking for him.

“Did you get any sleep?” Sam asked as he started to sit down next to Dean.  He thought twice about it, knowing his legs would cramp if he sat cross-legged for too long.  He moved back the short distance to the wall, sliding down it to prop his back against it, letting his long legs sprawl out in front of him.

If Dean wanted to talk, Sam figured he would change position, otherwise he would stay where he was, that way it could be up to his brother how much to engage.

“Nah,” Dean said as he pushed his good leg forcefully against the railing scooting himself backwards coming to rest next to Sam.  It showed his grace of movement that he didn’t spill a drop of his mostly full cup of coffee in the action.

“You’ve spoiled me Sam.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised in question at the statement. “I can’t sleep without your gargantuan body next to me.”

Dean’s tones were low so as to not carry in the silence of the bunker in case his mom woke and came looking for them. He took a big gulp of coffee savoring the strength of it.

“Well right back at you.” Sam sighed.  “As exhausted as I was, I just couldn’t get comfortable without you hogging the bed.”

That earned him a low chuckle in response.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked.  He had told himself he would let Dean be the one to take it there, but he found he couldn’t help himself.  He needed to know what was going on with his brother. 

Dean didn’t look unhappy, but he wouldn’t have drunk that much whiskey alone if something wasn’t on his mind.

Dean scrubbed his empty hand across his tired face before speaking.

“This is unsustainable Sam.”

The words slammed into Sam’s solar plexus stealing his breath. He nearly doubled over from the force of it.  He knew his brother was talking about their incestuous relationship and Sam felt like he was going to die.  Wished he could die.  If he had to live without getting to be with his brother, he wasn’t sure he could go back to that. 

Yes he loved him with his heart and it wasn’t just about sex. And yes it had been less than a year that they had been together, as he felt they were meant to get to be, so he should be okay with going back, but as he was faced with that potential, his heart raced to the point of being painful.

There was a stabbing catch in his side as he realized he had been holding his breath without meaning to.  He tried to stop, to breathe normally but found he couldn’t.  He wanted to vomit.

Dean put down his mug, and struggled to straddle Sam’s legs without hurting his own injured one. “God Sam, that isn’t what I meant.”  He took Sam’s face in his hands and kissed him all over, mouth, both cheeks, both eyelids, forehead. “I’m so sorry Sammy, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I never want to stop this, never want to have to sleep another night without you.”

Sam let out the breath he had been holding in a puff of air in Dean’s face.  Tears fell from the corners of his eyes.  “Dean…” was all he could manage before Dean was kissing him again. 

“I can’t go back to what we had before.” Dean whispered against his cheek.

“I can’t live my life hiding this 24/7, I won’t.”  Dean rested his forehead against Sam’s.

Sam was having a hard time finding a normal rhythm for his lungs between the fright and then the adrenaline dump from it, and the intense kissing, he was feeling light headed. 

After a few moments of just being still with each other Sam asked, “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know Sam.  I don’t have a plan worked out, I just know I can’t,” he paused for a second, “won’t settle for hidden glances and stolen time in motels while on hunts.  It isn’t enough.”

Sam felt like he was five years old again and he was scared but looking to Dean to make it all better, when he whispered, “But what about Mom?”

Sam’s mind had been chewing on something the entire time he was laying in bed trying unsuccessfully to sleep.  He was happy that Dean had fixed their mom.  He couldn’t have been more relieved.  But there was a heaviness in his heart about it too. 

Something had been gnawing at the darkest parts of his consciousness all through dinner, as he watched and laughed while Dean and their mom had joked and talked.  The three of them had recounted stories for hours after he had come back, discussing what had happened to each other and how the day had gone down.  But all the while, there was a weighted stone in his gut. 

It wasn’t until Mary began to have trouble keeping her eyes open that they had all gone off to find their rooms and crash.  And as he lay there thrashing about, it hit him, he was jealous.  He was jealous of Dean and his mom.  He felt they had a special relationship, not like Dean and their dad had had.  That was about Dean being a good soldier, respecting their dad and following his orders in a way Sam had never been able to do.  He had mostly come to terms with that a long time ago.  This was different. 

Sam had lain there trying to dissect his feelings.  Sure he had felt on the outs when Mary and Dean had first bonded over beef jerky and music, but that was superficial.  In fact, right after Mary was back it almost seemed like she and Sam had a deeper connection if anything, because Dean was resentful of Mary’s need for distance from the very beginning.  Thinking about that made Sam realize what was different tonight.  Dean’s animosity seemed to have dissipated.  So the wall that Dean had built up between he and his mom had suddenly vanished, making Dean more emotionally open to her.

The more Sam tried to self analyze, to trace all this back to its roots, the more puzzled he became.  But then suddenly it hit him, it was what Dean told him Amara had said, that she was giving him what he needed most.  The fact that that gift was their mom somehow dug away at Sam’s feeling of his worth to Dean.

That was what was eating away at Sam’s guts tonight.  Dean had always loved Sam the most.  He had doubted it as a teen because Dean would “take Dad’s side” so often in their fights, but as an adult he could look back on that and see it was always somehow to “keep Sam safe,” meaning it was still all about Sam.  So he had forgiven that a long time ago once he had seen it for what it really was.  Since then, no matter what had happened, who was around, Sam was always Dean’s priority number one.  Sam had occupied the top spot in his heart and mind, always. Even before they were lovers, that was the fact, plain and simple.  Sam had taken it for granted.

Now with Dean’s heart open to their mom in a way it hadn’t been before, Sam wasn’t sure of his place.  If their mom was what Dean needed the most, where did that leave Sam?  That was why when Dean said this was unsustainable, he had assumed it meant Dean was stepping back from being his lover.

He was overjoyed to be wrong about that, but still very unsettled about what Dean wanted to do about staying together.  He knew Dean wouldn’t want to lose their mom now that he just got her back. He felt so vulnerable, but was afraid to tell Dean any of this.

“I don’t know what to do about Mom, Sam.” Dean snuggled warmly against Sam’s neck, breathing in the scent of his hair.  “I don’t want to lose her by telling her about us, I can’t even imagine beginning that conversation.”  Dean shuddered at the thought.

He had no idea how gay people did it, to come out to their family and not know if it would mean losing them?  That would be hard enough.  But to tell your mom you were having a gay incestuous relationship with your brother, he knew he could never face her and have those words come out of his mouth.

He leaned back and looked at Sam.  Watched worry and fear creep their way across Sam’s face, making it no less beautiful, but causing his own heart to hurt in the process, because he didn’t know how to fix this.  Sam was hoping Dean would have the answer, but he didn’t.  All he knew was he could not, would not lose what they have, or go one more day not getting to have Sam the way he wanted, but he had no clue how to go about getting that or making this right for the three of them in the process.

“Dean, if Mom were to find out,” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard, “We would lose her.”

Sam’s breath went shallow again as he felt a panic attack trying to build at the base of his spine.

“You would lose her,” tears began spilling down Sam’s face as he added, “and she is what you need most.”

Dean physically jerked back with the shock of it.  “Whaddya mean Sam?”

Dean’s hands squeezed hard around both Sam’s biceps.  Dean sounded almost angry when he went on, “YOU are what I need most in this world Sam.  It has always been you.”

Sam shook his head not able to reply verbally because his throat had locked up from the emotional pain of admitting it out loud, his greatest fear, that he wasn’t the end all be all for Dean the way Dean was for him.

Dean released his grip and ran his hands up Sam’s neck trying to soothe him.  One came to rest at the base of his skull with his thumb rubbing circles across his cheek.

“Sammy, where in the world is this coming from?” Dean asked bewildered.

Sam closed his eyes, unable to calm himself while looking at his beautiful brother.  The ache in his heart was devastating.  He felt like all the happiness he had had since they had first kissed, all that they had shared was unraveling.  He had felt safe behind Dean’s anger at their mom.  His fury at her consistently walking away from them and betraying them time and again had solidified their bond by making it them against her. 

It had given Sam a reprieve from the pain he had first felt upon hearing what Amara had said about Mary.  Somehow causing him a sense of amnesia about it in the process, blinding him, allowing him to forget the feeling by reveling in kisses and caresses, safe behind the emotional fortress Dean had built between himself and Mary.

But now that shield was gone, and Sam’s world was tilted sideways.  He was questioning everything, why Dean hadn’t gone with him to fight the Brits, and stayed behind to save their mom.  He knew logically why Dean had done it, but now he felt raw about it, like Dean had picked her over having Sam’s back.

He was losing his mind.  He didn’t know what to do, how to explain any of this to Dean, it was entirely unreasonable, and he was so ashamed of how he felt. 

When Sam opened his eyes again Dean’s were fiercely searching his face for answers.  “Sam?”

Sam had to clear his throat to barely scratch out “Amara.”

Dean’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.

Sam tried again, swallowing hard.  “Amara said she was giving you back what you needed most, when she gave you mom.”

Sam burst into tears.  “I know I am being selfish and unreasonable, Dean.  I know you have enough love in your heart for her and me too.”

“This is stupid and you don’t have to point that out, I know it is. I know we talked about it a long time ago when she first came back, and you said then that maybe it was ‘the idea of her’ that you needed most, but now things are different.  I don’t know how to stop feeling this way and I am so sorry and I can’t stand that I am so weak and jealous and this is just…”

“Shh…Sammy, shh…” Dean wiped Sam’s tears as he had a thousand times, but it had never before cut into Sam’s heart the way it did this time. He felt undone.

“Sam it isn’t true.” Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s hair, down his neck, squeezing his shoulders, trying to calm him down.

“But Amara said…”

Dean put his finger to Sam’s lips to keep him from continuing.

“I was there Sammy, I know what she said.” Dean’s eyes were kind when he said it.  Not cutting the way Sam felt he deserved.

“It doesn’t mean what you think Sam.”

That caused Sam to be the one whose eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“But Dean…”

“If you would give me a chance, I will explain.” Dean chuckled.  Sam had always been impatient.  When he was a kid and Sam thought Dean was keeping something from him or telling him something “for his own good” that went against what Sam knew to be true, Sam had been merciless with his rapid fire questioning. 

Dean couldn’t remember how many “But Dean, that isn’t true, or but Dean in the lore it says…”  Dean couldn’t keep the smile from his face thinking that if he had had a nickel for every “but Dean…” he had heard in his life they would be rich a thousand times over.

He brushed the hair back that had stuck to Sam’s tear streaked face.

“After mom walked away from us that first time, I played what Amara had said over and over in my mind.”  Dean spoke clearly and slowly, trying not to upset Sam more than he already was.  He didn’t want any more misunderstandings in this.

“It never made sense to me, why Amara said that about Mom if she was just going to abandon us as soon as she got here.  I felt for months that Amara had to be wrong because it did so much more harm than it did good by bringing mom back.”

Sam was quiet now, listening, but he had started to shake and so Dean began running his hands over Sam’s shoulders, neck and up through his hair again trying to calm him while he spoke.

Sam shifted his legs apart so that Dean could sit his ass on the floor and bend his hurt leg slightly so to relieve the strain of it being straight all this time.  He didn’t let the movement stop his explanation though.

“I realize now why she said it.”  Surprise and reticence flew across Sam’s expressive face when Dean said the last.

Before his brother could assume any more inaccurate and hurtful reasoning, Dean pressed on.

“I have been carrying around a lifetime of resentment for a woman I had idolized the memory of all my life.  Dad worshiped her and even though I only had scant few memories of her, his adoration was contagious.  That was fine and wasn’t really a problem for me until I learned about her deal with Azazel.  That caused some kind of schism in my psyche Sam.  All the hurt and resentment about her deal and how much the fallout from that had hurt you,” Dean swallowed at the difficulty of the admission of the next part, “had hurt both of us, I had pushed it down and buried it because she was ‘Mom’ the hallowed saint, which couldn’t possibly be the same person that hurt us and forced us down the road we travelled through hell and back.”

He paused to catch his breath, to allow the hurt to wash over him again.  He had not wanted to stop because he didn’t want to give Sam a chance to spiral down a hurtful path again before he got all the information out, but also because he didn’t want to feel this pain anymore by reliving it through the telling.  But he could see Sam listening and paying attention and even though he wasn’t exactly sure where Dean was going, he could tell Sam was not panicked anymore, he hadn’t completely calmed down and Dean suspected he wouldn’t until he comprehended what Dean now understood about why his mom was back, but at least he wasn’t out of control and in tears about it anymore. Dean could do this, for Sam, he could accept the painful feelings again once more.

He picked up Sam’s hand and brushed the back of it against his lips. Couldn’t help it.  He loved his brother so much and wanted to show him, wanted him to feel it, trust it.

Sam watched with wide eyes as Dean turned it over and kissed his palm before letting it go and beginning to speak again.

“I believe Amara didn’t give mom back to me, to us, because I needed her in my life.  She gave her back to me, so I could face how I felt, face the pain I carried, that she gave to me, to us, and confront her about it.  I needed to tell her how I feel and allow the part of me that loves her to admit that I also hate her,”

Sam gasped.  He hadn’t known this part of the story.  While they were regaling war stories earlier, Dean hadn’t explained in detail what it had taken to get through to their mom while in her mind, hadn’t wanted her to be forced to hear it again. 

Sam’s heart broke for his brother.  To carry all that weight on his shoulders.  To be so torn up inside all this time and like always, be silent and carry it alone.  It was Sam’s turn to reach out and caress Dean’s face.  To whisper “I’m so sorry, Dean.” And run his hand over his head, down his neck and over his arms.  “Oh Dean, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay Sammy.”  Dean said honestly.  “I faced mom in her head.  I told her I hated her and loved her and somehow spewing all the hurt at her allowed me to forgive her.  It somehow freed me of everything I was carrying around.  It still hurts, sure, I assume it always will to some degree, but it is miles better than it was.”

He hadn’t realized he was crying himself until Sam reached up and wiped his cheek.  He left his hand holding Dean’s face and whispered, “You are so brave, Dean.”

Dean chuckled and looked down at his own hands where they rested in his lap.

“It’s true Dean.  You are the bravest person I have ever known.  To feel all that pain, all that betrayal, all that hatred, and to go into her mind to save her anyway, that took guts.”

Sam swallowed hard at the sudden thickness in his throat, the awe filling his chest at the amazement he felt at who his Dean truly was.  The depth of his heart, the strength of his character, never ceased to surprise and fill Sam with pride that he was his brother.

Dean shook his head as if to negate the compliment or swipe it out of existence, but the blush on his cheeks made Sam know that it had touched him, had mattered to him.

“Anyway, now maybe you understand, that Mom, the person, was never what I needed most, it was facing her, facing what she had done and forgiving her, freeing myself of all that twisted up mess inside, that was what I needed most.”

“The person I need most in this world, now and forever, until the end of time is you, baby brother, you, always you.” More tears fell down Dean’s face, and they were matched as a mirrored set with the ones rolling down Sam’s cheeks.

“Oh Dean, I love you so much.”

Sam smashed his mouth hungrily against Dean’s with no warning.  Somehow careful of Dean’s hurt leg but still powerfully forcing Dean flat of his back in one swift motion. They were both instantly rock hard.  It had been too long, and their emotions were running too high for it to be any different.

Their hips pushed against each other of their own volition, from sheer need and desire.

Sam pulled back from the kisses and frantic hunger of their bodies just long enough to say, “I am so sorry about earlier Dean.  I didn’t mean to freak out, I just love you so much and need you so much I lose my mind sometimes.”

“Me too Sammy, me too.” Dean said before greedily pulling Sam back down on top of him into a heated kiss again. He wrapped his good leg around Sam’s hip, pressing on his ass, pulling him down as hard as he could against him to enable the most friction possible.

They would have begun undressing but they heard from below them, “Boys, I think we need to talk, before you take this any further.”

It was like they were wild dogs humping in someone’s yard until that person suddenly turned the hose on them.  They broke apart instantly, both having icy cold shards of glass cutting fear into their stomachs.

They stood, Dean having to grab the railing to pull himself up because of his bum leg.  Wild eyed they stared at each other before turning and descending the stairs to face their mother, with their sin.

Neither man could get a read on Mary as she stood in a bathrobe and slippers waiting in the archway between the library and the map room. Her face was closed off.  There wasn’t a look of disgust, nor anger, to her expression.  It wasn’t the flatness that had been there when she was brainwashed but it was as if she was working extremely hard for neutrality.

That was more confusing than anything they could have expected.  Both men’s hearts were racing, neither knew it but they both had a similar mantra going through their heads, “I can’t lose him, I won’t give him up, I can’t lose him, I won’t give him up.”

Mary went over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed two more glasses coming back to sit at the library table, pouring out equal shots in them as well as Dean’s original glass. The men picked up the proffered liquid courage and threw them back as one. Both then reached for the bottle to get a second helping, which went down as quickly as the first.

They sat on either side of Mary who had chosen to take a seat at the head of the table.  The significance was lost on no one.  Her hand reached across the table slowly to where the boys had carved their initials into the wood.  She traced over both sets of letters.

Sam and Dean watched her silently, waiting, their hearts beating hard and fast, both trying to control their breathing unsuccessfully.  Each wanted to look at the other for comfort, but couldn’t take their eyes off of her hand tracing the symbol of their love, their mark, their legacy, inescapably intertwined symbolically together in that, as in all things.

“I knew before tonight.”  Mary stated quietly before looking up, first at Sam and then at Dean.

Sam gasped almost inaudibly, and Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“When?” Was all Dean managed, which was more than Sam could have done with a gun to his head.

“Lady Bevell told me as part of the torture regimen.” 

A growl of hatred escaped from low in Dean’s throat but that was the only sound either of them made before she continued.

“I didn’t believe it at first, but then she threatened me with audio evidence. Evidently there were recordings she was planning to play me if I didn’t fall sway under their power quickly enough.”

Sam closed his eyes.  He hadn’t thought about what the Brits might have heard with their recordings, didn’t know for sure when the listening devices had been installed, how long they had been under surveillance, or what activities they might have heard the boys getting up to.  They had been so busy trying to stay alive and make plans to stop the Brits that it never occurred to him to follow that road in his mind. 

Even if he had he would never have thought about them telling their mom.  He wasn’t sure why it wouldn’t have occurred to him, but he didn’t think it would have.

Dean blanched at the thought of his mom hearing them have sex.  Walking in to hear them kissing was bad enough, but the thoughts of what he and Sam had done in the bunker, the noises the two of them made, no mother needed to hear that of her children, especially not of her children making them together.

“I never heard any of the tapes.  Their other forms of torture fragmented my mind without her resorting to that.  But before I cracked, I replayed our times together over and over in my head.  I couldn’t let go of the thought that she might be right.  The way the two of you were together, how you had to rely on each other your entire lives, how frantic and desperate Dean had been to save you Sam, when Lady Bevell had held you captive,” she looked at her youngest son again, and for the first time, he met her eyes. 

She wouldn’t have described his look as defiant, but it definitely wasn’t shame that was on his face.  She wasn’t sure what she had expected from either of them.  She could tell they were scared to be confronted like this, but there was such a strength to her boys.  Especially when they were together.  The irony made her lips curl up in a tight smile.

Neither man knew what to think of that smile.  They were both unsettled by it, but this really wasn’t going the way they had thought it would, not that they really knew what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“Before I could decide whether I believed it or not, that bitch broke me.”  Mary spit out, the anger at her own weakness still in full effect.

Dean sat up straighter in his seat.  “But you said you already knew, if not before you broke, then when?”

“It was while you were in my mind.”

It was Dean’s turn to be completely shocked.  His mouth fell open in disbelief.  He hadn’t said anything about them being together while he was trying to save her.  He had been groggy after Ketch had pulled him forcefully out of her mind, but he knew he would have remembered that, no matter what.  But before he could contradict her she continued.

“It was how you spoke of what my deal had done to Sam.  Yes, you were angry at having to be both mother and father, at the unfairness of it, but you described that part as if it was just a fact of life.  It wasn’t until you spoke about failing to protect Sam, about how much he had lost, had had to suffer and how much pain he had endured, that your voice broke, that your tears fell freely down your face.  Dean, you are in love with him.  I felt it from deep within my own mind, the fierceness of what he means to you.”

It wasn’t an accusation that they heard in her voice.  It was a statement of fact. 

“And today Sam, I watched you watch Dean.  It was as if you were memorizing every move he made, every step he took in the kitchen at dinner, you watched his face at every word he spoke, as if you had been starving and he was the only thing that could give you sustenance.”

“Once I knew what to look for, the evidence of the truth is there clear as day. Clear as these letters carved into this table.”

Dean looked from her to Sam and back to her.  Neither man knew what to say. 

Mary stared down at her own hand where it had found its way back to the carved letters tracing over and over the proof of her sons’ love for one another.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up or whether you would even want me to know.  I had assumed not, since incest isn’t really something accepted anywhere except that show we watched, what was it called, Game of Thrones?”

Dean snorted and Sam’s exasperated, “Mom!” made Dean laugh even harder.  Then Sam broke down in giggles and finally Mary joined in.

“I don’t know what to do with you boys, but I know you love each other more deeply and completely than any love I have ever witnessed.  I don’t even think your father and I came close to this depth in the years we were together.”

“I know I don’t know all of it, really don’t want to know all of it, believe me, but I know you have died for each other, and killed for each other and will continue to do so as long as you live.”

Her sons nodded silently in agreement to that.

“We are hunters,” she looked at Dean, “As Ketch so eloquently put it before he died, we are killers.”

Both men were looking squarely in her face as she spoke now.  No longer afraid of what was to come, just listening as she laid her thoughts about it out.

“We don’t live within the norms of society in any other way in our lives, why should this be any different?  Is it what I would have wanted for either of you? No, but also when I think about it in theoretical terms, would I have wanted you to find a love you would give everything for and who would do the same in return?  Yes.  Would I want you to have a partner that always had your back and made you a priority? Yes.  Is it the ideal? Certainly not.  Do I want to see it in my face? Absolutely not! But do I still love you both? Without a doubt.”

It was as if a suffocating cloud was lifted from the entire room.  The relief was palpable, not just for the boys, but for Mary as well. 

“I don’t know about you boys, but I need another shot.”  Mary said with a slight chuckle moving her glass towards Sam where the bottle rested in front of him.

“Yes ma’am.” Sam said with a grin as he poured two fingers into her glass. 

“That goes double for me handsome.” Dean said in his best swagger voice.

“Dean!” Mary and Sam said in combined horror and disbelief.

“Too soon?” Dean asked innocently.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, this went in a direction I never saw coming. I had no plan at all for Mary to find out. It was never even on my radar as something this story would do. But as always the boys had a minds of their own and led me down this path in the middle of my writing it. 
> 
> The only thing I knew about where I wanted to take it was to bring it full circle back to Sam being all Dean ever needs and vice versa with a discussion of what Amara had said when she gave Mary back to Dean. But then I saw Jensen on a Con video discussing his take on Dean going into Mary's mind and how he felt her coming back finally made sense to him because of how the writers dealt with it. It was an "aha moment" for him as to why Mary was the one Amara had sent back, because he said for the entire season he had always thought John would have made more sense. But as soon as he read the script for Who We Are, a light bulb went off for him about the situation. It inspired me to start my final chapter with a discussion about that, making it the perfect ending to this since it basically fit exactly what this story had always been for me too. And I wanted to honor Jensen's feelings about Dean, since he knows the character better than anyone.
> 
> I didn't deal with the finale of the season. It just didn't work with this story and it also felt like the perfect way to handle it because I started this story on Episode 2 and it ends after the second to the last episode so it felt right somehow symmetrically in my head. I may deal with Episode 1 and the finale somehow at a later time as one offs but not sure yet.
> 
> This entire project has been so amazing for me because of you guys. You have made me want to write and have inspired me to keep going. Your feedback and comments and kudos not only drove me forward with this story but inspired me and gave me the courage to post my first Walking Dead fanfic in the meantime. I just cannot thank you enough for sticking with me to the end and for supporting this endeavor. 
> 
> I hope this chapter is enjoyable for you. 
> 
> If you ever are inclined, feel free to hit me up on Tumblr. There my account is [alliehallowseve](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/alliehallowseve)


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